#i like to torment my coworkers with weird questions of the day

[road-kill-eater]

i could not be a guy dealing with a mind consuming monster transformation curse deal. i would not fight it i would descend right into that fate within the first hour id never turn back no one would ever see my true face again id live in the woods forever

[thebroccolination]

Krist's Thai Fans

My favorite thing about Krist's Thai fans is how kind they are. As long as you're respectful when you ask, they're more than willing to answer questions about him and clarify the past to people who are looking for context. That's what I've always done, and it really speaks to the kind of bond that exists between him and them that although interfans have happily tried to destroy his reputation overseas for years, his Thai fans are able to be this patient dealing with the same misinterpretations of his character over and over.

And a lot of them have been fans since SOTUS. I've spoken to some who attended the filming of SOTUS. Some have known this man since he was a teenager, and since he wears his heart on his sleeve, they know him better than most fans would know the average celebrity. At the BMF finale event, he started crying when he saw a fan he hadn't seen for months. He thought she'd lost interest, but it turned out she'd just gotten busy with work and had been donating to his food support for months instead.

Before I went to Thailand, my friend told me he'd been to a bunch of BL actor events and he said of all the fanbases he saw, Krist and his fans seemed the most like actual, genuine friends. And then I attended the BMF finale event and Krist's solo concert, and my friend was right. At the fan benefits portion of both, Krist not only recognized his fans, he had unique ways of interacting with each of them. One woman opened her arms and ran at him with a yell, and he grinned and yelled back. One guy walked up to him with a beaming smile and Krist lit up and hugged him. It wasn't a, "Hey…you!" thing, he knew these people well enough that he immediately recognized them and matched their energy.

Two friends, a guy and a girl, took a 3:1 photo with Krist, and it was clear from his nervousness that it was the guy's first time meeting Krist. He lingered after, said something to Krist, and Krist beamed and took his hands. The guy walked off the stage barely keeping it together, and his friend turned around and waved at Krist with a knowing smile.

Then, during a group photo, a woman and her friend told Krist that she'd been diagnosed with a terminal illness, and she would likely never meet him again. She was smiling, and he gave her a long hug. She passed away recently.

The reason I'm so enthusiastic about Krist as a person is because I saw firsthand the amount of energy and devotion he reserves for the people who care about him. Friends, family, coworkers, staff, fans. He could easily give half of what he does and it would still be admirable. The fan benefits for the second day of his solo concert went on until at least eleven at night, and the concert started at three. And he was there rehearsing from early morning after doing another concert with benefits the day before. And he was sick. He got through both days using steroids, and he was violently ill from them afterward.

And like, every time I think about this bond with his fans, I'm moved by how immensely kind his Thai fans specifically have always been to me. They've been through so incredibly much with the weird witch hunt against Krist spearheaded by international fans. He was tormented off social media in 2020, but his long-time Thai fans were still there. Watching as western people arrived in this fandom for the first time and started cheerfully spouting death threats at someone whose language they didn't even speak. These people saw one screenshot and an inflamatory TikTok or two and rather than ask anyone why Thai fans weren't also baying for his blood, they decided they knew best and that his fans must just be simps or idiots.

When I visited Thailand last year, it struck me how humble and kind most of these actors are. Be it because they have perspective from working other jobs (doctor, chef, etc.), and if they're like Krist and only work in the entertainment industry, they might just see their fans so often and at such close range that it's probably impossible to want to maintain an Aloof and Mysterious Distance from them. Maybe it's cultural, too. Here in Ireland, Irish people famously don't give a toss when they see Irish celebrities. I saw Hozier on the corner in my neighborhood a few weeks ago chatting with an unhoused man and no one at all reacted.

All this to say, since KristSingto will be active this year, and they'll likely have a series announced at the showcase, please encourage people to do more research than skim through a YouTube video called PROBLEMATIC BAD PEOPLE IT IS ACCEPTABLE TO BE MEAN TO. If not for Krist, then for his queer Thai fans who are, I can confirm, extremely tired of international fans coming into fandom with sanctimonious and cruel intentions that make the entire experience dramatically worse.

I promise you if Krist had ever been perceived as homophobic by his Thai fans, who know him far better than we do, then his queer Thai fans would still be saying something. He also wouldn't have primarily queer friends. Like, it's not one or two. Most of his friends are queer. The industry is queer.

Anyway, y'know. Another day, another casual effort to stamp out this nonsense so we can all enjoy KristSingto time in peace.

[imgnaf]

saw elif batuman twice in three days. sadly as always, the paid event was better. later my friend and I sat briefly in the cafe dripping with leaves that she later walked into with her friend, which surely was a highlight of some kind.

my unbookish coworker reminded me that readings are a weird thing to go to, probably to be unkind (lol).. but at the same time they are weird! these events treat the person who wrote the novel as its subject. that is unnatural. i love the gossipy autobiographical questions probably more than the next person and surely they are important in some way.

but in this case i think it really makes you overlook that the novel's premise is idiosyncratic- that life is made from art, not in a cute way but because narrative is the one reliable model of meaning there is, and so reading is its one model of thought. within the novel i think that idea is question, torment, reason for being, and certainly a kind of love. that's why it needs autobiography, it's not the other way round. that's why it's so cluttered with books, titles, labels, papers, every physical trace and remnant of what it's obsessed with.

this is one of my favourite passages from "the possessed": i don't think the writer is laughing at the mother. i think there's something tender in the observation of the mother's belief that words and photographs mean something as fundamental and elusive as a person's gestures, one that i think she shares. the note of wryness there is sad, it's all in the way her mother is waiting for her to exceed her, outgrow her whenever they read the same book.

“My mother was happy to see me reading what turned out to be her old copy of Anna Karenina. “Now you can tell me what it really means!” she said. My mother often asked me to tell her what things really meant: books, movies, things people said to her at work. (She worked at the SUNY Downstate Medical Center, where people seemed to make particularly inscrutable remarks.) The pretext for these questions was that I am a native English speaker and she isn’t. Actually, my mother studied from early childhood at an American school in Ankara and speaks beautiful English, and I remember only one time that her question was to any extent resolved by my telling her the literal meaning of an English phrase. (The phrase was “Knock yourself out.”) In all other instances—and, in fact, also in that instance—“What does that really mean?” itself really meant something like: “What underlying attitude toward me, or toward people like me, is represented by these words?”

My mother believed that people harbored essential stances of like or dislike toward others, and betrayed these stances in their words and actions. If you came out looking terrible in a photograph, it was a sign that the person who took it didn’t really like you.

[watermelonlipstick]

Nerves (Request)

This was my first request, and it was fun to write! Anon wanted a reader around Sam’s age whose nerves Dean mistakes for fear until he confronts her about them. Thanks for reading, and of course I would love any advice or critiques!! If you have a request, drop it in my inbox and I’ll definitely write it if I feel like I can do it justice. Just a little bit of weekend fluff. 

Title: Nerves

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2715

Summary: When helping Sam’s college friend, the reader, Dean can’t figure out why she’s so scared of him. 

gif from forgetthisbull

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious. Don’t be a fucking creep to her,” Sam said, shutting the door to the Impala and following his brother into a greasy spoon called Little Bavaria with white scalloped curtains.  

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious,” Dean mimicked in a nasal sing-song. “And when am I ever a creep?”

Sam glared at Dean in exasperation. “Please? Just please? Can I have one friend you don’t hit on?”

“Fine! Drop it!” Dean snapped, yanking open the door and pulling his face immediately into a saccharine smile for the rosy-cheeked grandma-type standing behind a cash register that could not have been made after 1983.

“Thank you,” Sam said, obviously relieved. He scanned the room before seeing her sitting in a back booth.

You waved excitedly to Sam as he walked toward you, looking like a sun-kissed and confident man rather than the floppy haired boy you remembered.

As the brothers made their way over to you, a waitress dropped off plasticized menus and glasses of water. Sam waited for you to stand up before wrapping you in a bear hug. He smelled clean and familiar in a way that made you feel slightly lighter immediately.

“I like the new hair, it looks good on you,” he said, charming as ever.

You reflexively touched your head. “Oh! Right, I forgot that was after college. You look great!”

Sam’s smile was easy and wide as he turned to Dean. “This is my brother Dean.”

Dean raised a few fingers in a weak wave, decidedly not giving you anything Sam could construe as bedroom eyes or a flirtatious smirk. “Nice to meet you. Sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”

“Yeah, well,” you trailed off.

“Should we sit?” Sam asked, graciously offering you an out.

After the requisite coffees and Dutch babies were ordered, Sam looked across the table angelically. “I’m really sorry this is happening,” he said, his voice smooth and soothing.  It was all Dean could do not to roll his eyes, one arm slung across the booth behind Sam as he slouched back. He tried for the appearance of nonplussed neutrality. “If it’s okay with you, I think you should stick around us until we figure this out. I don’t want to leave you alone in that house,” Sam urged.

You kept the relief off your face better than you’d expected you would. You were trying to play it cool in front of Sam and his hopelessly cute older brother, but you were scared enough of going back your new house that you just repeated what they ordered, unable to focus even on the menu. As you had been doing for the last day and a half since you called, you thanked God for the small instinct to call Sam. Sam, who you hadn’t seen in a few years but was the least judgmental person you’d known in school. Somehow you knew even if he thought you were crazy he would come anyway. Now he was here, bigger and looser than you’d remembered, not making fun of or pitying the girl who thought her house was haunted, and you felt like you could take a deep breath for the first time in weeks. In a weaker moment you might’ve cried, and for that reason it was better that Sam had brought his brother. It might not have been so embarrassing to break down with an old friend, but you couldn’t ugly-cry in front of the Rebel Without A Cause at the table, all pillowy lips and long eyelashes. Distractedly you tried to remember if Dean looked this good in the two or three pictures Sam had scotch-taped to his dorm wall but couldn’t call them up. You channeled all the chill-girl energy you could muster and shrugged. “If you think that’s better, I can.”

“I do, yeah. It’s just that we don’t know what’s going on yet,” Sam offered. “If you need to get some stuff from your place, we can come with you. Right, Dean?”

“Sure,” Dean said, his tone clipped and his lips pressed tight. “Whatever Sammy wants.”

You heard a thump under the table and Dean smiled slightly more reassuringly.

Over breakfast Sam had about a hundred questions about everything you’d been up to lately. He seemed genuinely interested as you told him about the new job you’d moved here for, wanting to know more about the goofy drama between your coworkers and odd clients as though it was fascinating. You’d forgotten how much you desperately missed him until you saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and heard his laugh twinkle out over the coffee steam and powdered sugar. All the while, Dean seemed to be boring into you with those green eyes, sometimes adding a meaningless trite comment or chuckle but not genuinely engaging. You tried only partly successfully to ignore him, focusing on Sam and your food and how nice it was to feel safe.

3 cups of weak coffee after you’d finished eating, knowing you’d be jittery but not caring from the giddiness of the reunion, Dean took out his wallet and threw about double what you’d guessed the tab might be down in cash. “Should we go get your stuff?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you answered, taking one last sip before getting up from the table. A look you couldn’t decipher passed between Sam and Dean so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been staring right at them. You followed the boys out of the restaurant, feeling a very odd and fleeting moment of jealousy when Dean thanked and winked at the older woman behind the cash register, giving her a slow languid smile like warm honey. He was so pretty. As quickly as the thought had come over you, it was replaced with disgust at yourself. At a time like this, when your whole world was in chaos, you were worried about some hot guy—who clearly wasn’t into you from the way he was acting—instead of your own safety. You were still cursing yourself mentally when you slid into the back of the gigantic black car they’d arrived in.

Sam’s friend was cute. Like, really cute. Beautiful, even, and Dean was beyond annoyed that this was the one time he promised Sam he wouldn’t hit on one of his friends. Not that it seemed to matter, because she only had eyes for Sam. It was like she melted when she saw him, staring only straight at his kid brother all through the time they stayed at the breakfast spot. If Dean was being honest with himself, he was more than a little hurt, not used to being looked at with anything less than adoration by the women he wanted. What added even more salt to the wound than the way she seemed so infatuated with Sam was the way that she looked when she saw Dean. Dean peddled in monsters and the looks of attractive women, and he knew fear when he saw it. He’d spent the rest of breakfast with Sam’s comment about him being a creep running through his mind on a loop, careful not to lean too close into her or say anything less than strictly G-rated. Unfortunately, that limited him more severely than he realized it would.

When she got into the back of the Impala, she sat straight up like she was in a cotillion class, not comfortable enough even to sit normally in his car. Was Sam right? Was he a creep? Dean suddenly felt weird and predatory, like maybe the blood and guts of hunting was changing him in some irreparable way that people could sense. He tried to smile agreeably the way Sam did up at her in the rearview mirror and saw a shark reflected back at him. Looking quickly away, Dean put both hands on the wheel the way he thought someone non-threatening would.

It didn’t help that Sam thought something was off, which meant Dean wasn’t pulling off his act and maybe couldn’t even pretend like he wasn’t the kind of person who makes a beautiful girl’s eyes go wide in fear. Each time Sam had side-eyed or kicked him under the table, the point was re-emphasized. Dean was desperate to relax but worried he’d freak this poor girl out somehow, so he kept himself tightly wound as he took directions to her house.

By the time they’d finally figured out the problem—not, as you thought, that your house was haunted but that a coworker was in fact a witch trying to torment you—the three of you had gotten into a semi-comfortable rhythm. You were crashing on the couch in their motel room, carrying your toiletries into and out of the bathroom every morning like you were at sleepaway camp and trying to keep your clothes as wrinkle-free as possible while living out of a suitcase. Some parts of it were so nice; you were still just as grateful for the protection you felt as you had been in that café, and you had forgotten how comforting it was just to know there was someone else around. Other parts, however, were not. You hadn’t slept on a couch, let alone a scratchy-creaky motel one, for so many days since college, and you were remembering why. On top of that, Dean was so compelling that it felt like you expended half of your energy each day just trying to keep yourself from staring at him.

And naturally, the more you got to know him the harder it got. He was not only the pretty boy that was obvious from the first time you met, but also so kind and respectful, seeming to be very aware of the potential discomfort of immediately sleeping in the same room as a strange man and giving you a wide berth for as much privacy as possible. He even picked up coffee in the mornings before you and Sam got up, that first day getting a black coffee, a nonfat latte, and ‘whatever the coffee guy said was most popular’ because he didn’t know what you’d like. If anything, it felt almost as though he was being a bit too gentle, and you wondered if Sam had told Dean you were some kind of fragile and delicate bird that startled easily. When you’d asked Sam about it after a couple days, he just shrugged and said he hadn’t really told Dean much other than some stories from college. You decided to drop it. Maybe Dean was just like this, which made it all the harder not to develop the kind of crippling, blushing, oh-my-god-is-he-going-to-sit-next-to-me crush you hadn’t felt since middle school.

When the coworker had been ‘taken care of’—a careful answer from Dean that you chose not to pursue—you were left feeling unmoored. It wasn’t like you could go back to the now-destroyed house, or even imagine how you’d explain away the chaos of the last couple weeks to the few people you knew here. Sam seemed to pick up on it intuitively, and offered for you to come along with him and his brother until you figured out what you were going to do next. Like it had when he had driven across the country and tossed you the last life raft over the formica table at Little Bavaria, it felt like Sam was saving you. He seemed excited when you said you would, and was out grabbing sandwiches for the road while you and Dean packed up the motel room when Dean asked if he could borrow you for a minute.

You were so embarrassed at the small, cartoonish voice that agreed, sitting on the side of the bed while Dean draped himself effortlessly—God, how could he look so cool even just sitting down—over the arm of the sofa.

“I, uh, if you’re going to come on the road with us I think we should talk,” he started. Your pulse started thumping in your chest and you hoped you weren’t blushing as you raised your eyebrows, signaling for him to continue. Dean cleared his throat and fiddled with his ring before continuing. “Listen, I don’t know how much Sam told you before we met, or whatever, but I swear I’m really not that bad.”

You’d been focusing so hard on not looking desperately infatuated that you weren’t able to keep the surprise off your face. “Bad? Of course not, you’ve been amazing. You and Sam saved my life. I’m so grateful,” you sputtered.

“Right,” Dean said, looking slightly confused. “Then I’m sorry if I did something maybe, because I don’t want you to think I’m some, like, animal—”

You cut him off. “Dean, you’ve been unbelievably sweet, way above and beyond what you needed to do. I’ve felt so safe the entire time I’ve been with you guys, and now you’re letting me stay with you for even longer; I don’t know how I can repay you, seriously.”

Dean looked up at you, his confusion tinged around the edges of his eyes with something wounded. “Then why are you so scared of me? You jump whenever I come in the room, you only look at Sam, you don’t even slouch when I’m around. I know I can’t do Sam’s puppy dog eyes act, but come on, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You act like you’re waiting for me to sock you.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, realizing you didn’t know what to say. It was hard enough to think with Dean’s eyelashes sweeping over his cheekbones like the most delicious metronome you’d ever seen, let alone process what he was saying. “I—Dean, I’m not scared of you,” you finally squeaked. His face didn’t change with the spark of recognition that would’ve allowed you to stop there with a soggy handful of dignity left, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself to continue. “God, this is so embarrassing,” you murmured under your breath. “Okay,” you started, hoping your voice sounded resolute and firm. “I mean, it’s just that you’re so cute, and cool, and self-assured, and I was worried I was going to do something weird or whatever, and now I guess I have anyway. I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable, or especially feel like I wasn’t anything other than thankful for you and everything you’ve done. I’ll try to act like less of a total freak, I promise.” 

You winced, waiting for the inevitable pity from this gorgeous man who must hear these proclamations from every woman he meets. Instead, Dean chuckled, which was maybe even worse. Pity you were ready for, could swallow and heal your ego from in private, but open ridicule was too much.

“Okay, well, that was fun. Sorry,” you said, smacking the tops of your legs and getting up from the bed. Dean grabbed one of your wrists as he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes.

“No, wait, sit down,” he said, smiling.

You obeyed, feeling a little lump of embarrassed tears forming in your throat but not seeing a way to extricate yourself from the room gracefully. Dean’s callused thumb swiped affectionately across the back of your hand.

“That is way better than what I thought,” he insisted.  “Sam made a big deal about how I shouldn’t act like a creep to you, and it got in my head. I thought I was coming off as a total perv or something.”

His eyes locked you in like quicksand before you could answer, not pitying or withering at all as you’d thought, just soft and tender and the impossible green of a perfect matcha. “No, I’m the perv here,” you offered, attempting to make light of your shyness.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart,” Dean purred. Heat swelled up into your cheeks, and Dean brought your hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the back of your hand as he gazed up at you.

As you were desperately scrolling through the Rolodex in your mind for something witty to say, Sam opened the door to the motel room. You were equally and fiercely relieved and stymied as his hulking frame filled the doorway, grabbing the duffel he’d left on the tile. “You guys ready?” he asked, his smile bright and carefree.

Dean dropped your wrist and winked at you as he got up from the couch unhurriedly. “More than ready, Sammy. Let’s hit the road.”

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass, @akshi8278​, @dream-believe-and-love​

[jasperswh0re]

Savior [Raylan Givens x reader]

Part four! Sorry this is so late. Also sorry it’s kinda short. Gender neutral reader as always :D also I finally realized a good ending to this series, there might be only a few more parts left

Summary: Raylan finds out why you’re in Kentucky. And it seems that you’re the calm before the storm.

Word count: 1,446

Warnings: Alludes to sexy times but its skipped over (i dont write smut, sorry)

part three

---

You were forced into protection by the U.S. Marshall service the morning after the attack. Raylan didn’t give you much of a choice. The unanswered question still lingered in the air. 

You never answered him. You’ve been dead silent since the night before. It was starting to give him a headache. Actually, maybe that was the hangover.

Raylan was pacing around his workspace, waiting for your interview with his coworkers to end. He didn’t have the opportunity to sit in on the interview since Art said it was a conflict of interest.

Eventually, Rachel and Tim left the conference room simultaneously. You stayed in your seat while thinking over everything. Raylan wanted to go and comfort you but he needed answers.

The look in his eyes was enough for Rachel to skip past him, throwing some excuse to grab a coffee. Tim attempted to do the same but Raylan placed a hand on his coworker’s chest and stopped him in his place.

“Why are they here?” Tim remained silent. “Tim-” He said slowly, keeping his eyes on the ground- “If I don’t know why they’re here... Then I can’t help them. Any information you give me can save their life.”

The deputy looked to the side and sighed, “They’re in Kentucky because of some sort of family thing.”

“Family thing?”

Tim met his friend’s eyes, “They’re distantly related to the Crowder’s. They suspect that Bo Crowder is after them.”

Raylan was frozen where he stood. His eyes flickered to you in the conference room. The rim of his hat barely hid his deadly glance. 

You were messing with a dent on the table. You could feel his stare. All you wanted to do was melt away forever.

“Alright,” Raylan held his composure. “I’m taking them out of town.”

“Art knew you would say that. I’m coming with you.”

The majority of the car ride was silent and Tim could feel the tension in the air. As he sat in the passenger’s seat, his eyes would dart between you and Raylan.

You were comfortable in the backseat. Tim was kind enough to get you coffee from the office, as crappy as it was. As usual, you were unnervingly calm.

Raylan tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, biting down on his lower lip. Everything he wanted to let out he held in for as long as he could.

The two marshalls came to the conclusion that it would be best if you stayed at Raylan’s motel. Your room was next door and easy access for both of them. But the three of you stayed in Raylan’s room for the time being. You still never spoke.

“Well, I’m gonna turn in,” Tim stood. “Raylan, are you taking the bed or will you be a gracious host?”

Raylan threw a playful glare at his coworker and gestured towards the bed. You stood from your seat across from him.

“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Raylan stood up quicker than any bullet shot from his gun. You held up a hand to stop him but he followed anyway.

“Goodnight, Raylan,” You said, facing the doorway and clutching the knob. Raylan flipped you around by the shoulder, keeping you against the wooden frame.

“What is the matter with you?”

“Excuse me?” You stared at him with a certain harshness. His brown eyes were desperate.

“You’re- ...You’re insane! You’re completely insane, (Y/n),” Raylan whined. “Someone is after you and you’re sitting like a duck. A duck waiting to be shot.”

“I am not a duck, Raylan.”

“You know that’s not the point,” He stuck his finger at you.

"Then what is the point?”

Raylan’s voice went up in volume. “The point is that you’re not afraid!” 

“Why should I be?” You matched his voice.

“Because you could die!” Raylan lifted his hands as if he was about to cup your face but didn’t. His large hands dropped while he stared at the floor, trying to wipe the stress off of his face. 

“The fact is you nearly died,” He talked slowly. “...And with your lack of a response to the situation... I am inclined to believe that you’re not bothered by that fact.”

It took a while for you to respond.

“I’m not.”

“Why?” He whined. “Why in the world are you okay with that?”

You looked away from his face, afraid of what you could say when staring into his eyes. “I’m not okay with it. It’s just... complicated.”

“Try me.”

You looked back at him after a moment passed. It dawned on you that he hadn’t stopped staring at you in the past thirty-six hours. Like you would vanish at any second.

The Kentucky breeze flew by your figures. A cool comparison to the heat your bodies shared. 

Raylan was so worried. You hated to see him like this. If he knew the truth, would it make everything better or worse?

You drew a long sigh and pushed Raylan onto the outdoor furniture on the porch. His hard gaze remained.

“Assuming you know I’m related to the Crowder’s,” You began. “Only distantly... But not distant enough.”

“I’m aware of the Crowders,” Raylan said. “I didn’t know you were from Harlan.”

“I’m not,” You said. “Not really. My parents had me in Louisiana, but when I was three I moved to Kentucky. In another small town not far from Harlan... We visited often.”

You scratched your forearm, suddenly nervous. Raylan had never seen you like this. You continued.

“Long story short, my parents got involved in the drug business that Bo Crowder was in charge of. They never repaid their debts and...” You could feel yourself tearing up. “Now they’re gone. They had someone sent up to Oregon to off them... Honestly, the Crowder’s have been tormenting my life since.”

You didn’t dare look him in the eye as he placed a comforting hand on your back. 

“I figured I would just get it over with... I have no money to spare so-”

“So you just offer yourself up... Like- like... Some sort of sacrifice?” Raylan stared at you wildly.

“I have nothing to lose, Raylan,” You met his furious eyes. “I have nothing left in my life. The only family I had left in the world is gone.”

All Raylan could do was stare at you. He watched as silent tears trickled down your cheeks. He inched towards your figure and inclined his head to place a subtle kiss on your cheek, where the tear streaks ran.

You looked at him dumbfounded and found yourself unable to speak. Raylan gently kissed your other cheek, then continued to do this until his lips met yours. They were hesitant. Gentle. You leaned into his body, finally allowing him in. 

Your hands lifted to his cheeks. You could feel the stubble on his skin as you inhaled his scent. He tasted like whiskey but smelled like Cypress. 

Somewhere along the lines of this, you found yourself pressed against the cushiony duvet of your motel bed. Raylan’s large hands trailed all over your body as you did your best to rip off his extra clothing. 

By the end of the night, you both were cozied under the covers. Raylan’s grasp on you was tight. With one arm under and another over your torso, his head rested comfortably on your own, you stayed in a spooning position. Neither of you spoke for a long time but remained awake.

“I’m here,” Raylan finally said.

You hummed in response, too tired to speak. 

“You said everyone was gone... Well... I’m here,” His southern drawl was deep and full of compassion. 

“Raylan...”

“No, no... You had your time to speak,” He said. “...You know... I’ve been running around this damned state for weeks. Hell of a lot longer before you came along.”

You stayed silent.

“And I get it. I know how easy it is to give up. I don’t love it here, not as much as the next person,” He chuckled. “But laying eyes on you, that day we met... Life felt a little different in Kentucky. I found myself involuntarily looking for you... How weird is that?”

You gave a tiny laugh, holding Raylan’s hand against your beating heart. “Kinda weird...”

He sighed, “Then I saw you in that bar again. For a split second, it was like I could breathe. It was like I was drowning and you were the breath of fresh air.”

Taking in Raylan’s words, you didn’t say a thing. You slowly kissed his fingertips before falling into a deep sleep. When your breathing steadied, Raylan nestled his face into the crook of your neck. He slept peacefully for the first time in weeks. 

[milkybonya]

Unnamed

order #002: large banana milk tea with pudding and lychee jelly for Shinwon, requested by anon

-> Warning: food/drink mentions, mentions of alcohol + a bit suggestive?

-> in the same soulmate universe as my Named fic for Haechan, where "Some are named, some are unnamed. The named have their soulmate's name written somewhere on their body, and the unnamed don't have a soulmate", here you're unnamed.

[a/n]: i know this is a soulmate!au but i wanted to try writing from a perspective where the reader doesn't have a soulmate?? i think it will be fun hehe (but i hope the anon who requested doesn't mind!). i think it will work well with the enemies to lovers concept too :)

You're unnamed, and it sucks. For all your life, you've had to deal with all your loved ones moping about how they can't find who the name on their body belongs to, while you don't even have a name on your body. You're unnamed, like I said :(

They call you dramatic for being sad about it, telling you that you're free to date around and just do whatever... as if that helps. Of course it makes you feel worse.

The worst of them all if your neighbour, Shinwon.

"Good morning, [y/n]. Got a hot date today?" Shinwon asks you as he opens up the door to his flat.

You're dressed nicely today, but no, not for a hot date.

"Got a job interview."

"Oh... of course. I'm sure the unnamed wouldn't be going on dates much, anyway."

"You literally told me last time I must date around a lot because I come home late and have no soulmate so I can do what I want," you spit out, growing angry.

"Whatever. No need to get so mad!" Shinwon says, waving his hands around and finally stepping into his flat.

You huff and stomp off to your job interview.

Ever since Shinwon moved in next to you and found out you were unnamed, he's been getting on your nerves like it's no one's business. He's always teasing you about it, even in front of the other neighbours! He constantly embarrasses you and you hate him for hit.

He even leaves notes on your door, with 'unnamed!' written on it with stupid ' :P ' faces all around. It's so childish, but it still manages to make you so angry.

There's only one mystery, though.

Shinwon has never told you if he's unnamed or not.

You asked him many times, and he's always managed to dodge the question.

He lives alone... but of course, that might not mean anything. Still, you like to think that he's unnamed too, and lets out all his anger on you. The day that you find out for sure, you'll never let him live it down!

After absolutely killing it at your interview despite being nervous and angry because of Shinwon, you head to a café to treat yourself. Of course, Shinwon just has to be there. Working. At that café.

You don't realize it until you're right at the counter, since you're so giddy from the successful interview, still. But as soon as you hear him laugh right into your face, you realize who it is.

"[y/n]? What are you doing here now? Are you stalking me?" he laughs. His coworkers grow increasingly confused until he introduces you.

"This is [y/n]. They're my neighbour, and unnamed. Isn't that sad?" Shinwon tells them, cracking up.

His coworkers nervously nod and continue with what they were doing, but you feel absolutely embarrassed. You don't even know any of these people but now all of them know that you're unnamed? You'll get Shinwon back for this....

"Can I get that drink please?" you ask Shinwon, pointing to the menu. After paying for the drink, you wait on the side for him to prepare it. When he finally hands it to you, your rage is bubbling up so intensely inside that you do something you never thought you would have done.

As you go to pick up the cup, you pretend to 'accidentally' knock it over and spill it all over Shinwon.

"Oops, sorry," you say, innocently.

Shinwon wears a blank look on his face. He pauses, not doing anything until one of his coworkers rushes forward to help clean up.

"I'll get you a new drink!" they tell you.

You start to feel a little nervous as Shinwon's mood has very obviously changed. He greets the new customers quietly and without a trace of a smile on his face.

Why does it even matter, though? He's the one who's always making you feel angry. How about he be the one who feels angry for a change?

After taking your new drink and heading home like a boss, you spend the rest of the day resting at home. You decide to go out for a walk later in the evening, though, and you're met with a surprise when you open your door.

Your favourite plant, that you've placed right outside your door so you can see it everytime you enter and leave the house, and also so it's easy for people to know which flat is yours when they're visiting, has been completely smashed to pieces. The gigantic pot that was holding the little tree that had grown taller than where the doorknob sat on your door is now laying on the ground in a sad state.

It breaks your heart to see it like this, but you know exactly who's done it.

You take a few steps until you're at Shinwon's door. Then, you knock loudly, wondering if he's still home. Sure enough, he opens the door. And when he notices its you, he glares.

"What is it?"

"Why have you gone and broken my plant?"

"What makes you think I did it?" he shoots back, a slight, evil smile dancing on his lips.

"I know you did it, Shinwon."

There's a moment of silence as Shinwon thinks of what to say next, but you don't even let him speak as you continue.

"Shinwon, you embarrassed me, today, just like you always do. If this is because of me spilling my drink on you earlier, then no. We're not even now. We were even after I spilled my drink, because you've been tormenting me for so long now."

"What have I done?" Shinwon asks you, raising his eyebrows.

You sigh.

"It's not even worth telling you. Maybe you should clean up my plant and take some time to think about it yourself," you tell Shinwon before walking away.

He's left in a daze and actually ends up cleaning his mess, wondering why you have such an effect on him so suddenly. They're hot when they're angry, is what he finds himself thinking, but he quickly pushes this thought away.

-

"Shinwon, you jerk!" you yell up into the sky as you sit in your balcony, drinking some alcohol.

Nothing quite hits the spot right now like the drink in your hand as you peer down at the peaceful view below. A light breeze hits you and you close your eyes, feeling like it's caressing your face.

"You called?" Shinwon asks, poking his head out from the balcony next to yours.

You almost drop your drink out of your hand and curse at him. Shinwon just laughs at response.

"I never called you!"

"I clearly just heard you call me a jerk..."

You stick out your tongue at him and continue to drink. Somehow, he climbs over from his balcony onto yours and takes a seat across from you, taking a few sips from your drink. You feel so hazy that you don't even feel surprised.

"What are you doing?" you finally ask him.

"Not letting you drink alone," he murmurs.

"And what's wrong with drinking alone?"

"I do it all the time. It sucks."

Shinwon wears a small smile on his face as he talks to you, different from the mischievious one he'd always give you when talking to you and teasing you.

"And why do you drink alone if it sucks?"

Shinwon hesitates, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm unnamed... we all do that, don't we?"

Your breath hitches in your throat. Unnamed... so you were right.

"Just cause we're unnamed, that doesn't mean we have to drink alone."

"Maybe... but we do it anyway, right?"

You hum in response before drinking some more.

"Why do you tease me so much if you're also unnamed, then?"

"It makes me feel more at ease. You make me feel... more comfortable in my skin."

You laugh a little.

"And what does that mean?"

"Maybe that I like you?" Shinwon giggles.

"What? You're joking, right? It's just cause we're both unnamed."

Shinwon shrugs, looking down.

"Shinwon, you know how it feels to be unnamed, then, right?" you ask after a long pause. "I feel so unloved, so unneeded and unwanted on this stupid planet. It's like I don't have a purpose."

Your eyes start to tear up as the burden and many thoughts you've been carrying begin to spill out.

Shinwon remains silent, probably unsure of what to say or do. Instead, he says something unexpected.

"Can I kiss you?"

You cock your head at him, confused. Why is your rude neighbour asking if he can kiss you when you're literally about to cry?

Oh, well. This will be your first kiss.. Finally, you're kissing someone...

When your lips meet, Shinwon's feel so soft and warm against yours. You don't want to pull away, and it all makes sense now. You don't feel so alone anymore.

-

The next day day, you wake up to flowers at your doorstep, along with some hangover soup. There's a note on top:

feel better, [y/n]! i'm sure the hangover must be bad... i would come to your door in person, but i thought you may be too embarrassed to see me.

- jerk Shinwon

You smile as you read the way he ended the note. This all feels very weird to you... You used to hate your neighbour, but after tasting his lips last night, hearing him say he doesn't want you to drink alone and seeing what he's left for you now, you're second-guessing how you feel about him.

You knock on his door, hoping he's still home. To your surprise, he opens the door, his hair messy and his eyes puffy.

"[y/n]? How are you feeling?" he asks, looking a little frazzled.

"Me? Better than you, it seems. I'm about to head out to work!" you say, pointing to your formal wear.

"Oh... won't be needing the soup, then?"

"No, I need it! I haven't had breakfast."

Shinwon smiles, looking down.

"I'm glad," he says.

"Well, Shinwon. Wanna go on a coffee date or something today?" you ask him, your heart pounding as your veins overflow with sudden courage.

Shinwon laughs slightly, the corners of his eyes creasing.

"That sounds nice."

[beastars-takes]

Zootopia Takes: The Power of Really Liking Each Other

Our main event, Beastars Takes, will resume soon, but in the meantime I want to talk about one of my favorite movie relationships:

Has this been talked about to death by other people? Yes. But this is my blog and I write it for free so I can do what I want.

Note: this is not a shipping post--this is just an examination of their canonical relationship in the movie and why it rules.

At first glance, this is your typical enemies-to-friends story. I love those. But while the typical arc tends to involve two characters who can’t stand each other, who eventually develop a grudging respect for one another (often through some kind of shared ordeal) and maybe thaw into actual friendliness at the end. Zootopia packs all of that into the first half--by the midway point they are clearly not just allies, but friends, and by the end of the film they’re inseparable.

It’s important to recognize this isn’t just for the hell of it, or just to be cute--the closeness and trust they build is the linchpin of their success in the final moments of the movie.

All the reasons why, after the jump.

Something I talked about in the previous post was the messaging of Zootopia, and I don’t want to rehash it too much here. It’s a movie about prejudice, and the work it takes to overcome it. A key theme (one that it shares with Beastars, incidentally) is that friendships with those who are different from you are hard--but they are worth it.

Part 1: They Hate Each Other! (Right?)

Now...it goes without saying that when these two first meet, they bounce off each other hard. Each is seeing the other at their absolute worst.

Judy can’t stand Nick because he takes every bit of optimism she has about this world and throws it back in her face. She want to use him as a prop in her vision of an equal society, where “not all foxes” are crooks. He laughs at her. He humiliates her. All he has to do is walk away, but he takes his time. He twists the knife.

For his part, Nick sees a laughably ineffectual bunny who condescends to him and threatens him with jail for the crime of...humiliating her. She may not personally be a threat to him, but she wields the institutional power of the ZPD--a power he has plenty of reason to be afraid of--and she does it irresponsibly.

On first viewing, Nick inarguably wins this exchange. He avoids arrest, reads her to absolute filth and leaves her stuck in cement.

And he makes her really sad. Nice!

But, and I don’t pretend to be the first person to have pointed this out, on second viewing it’s obvious he can guess her story so well because it’s basically his story. The only difference, in his mind, is that he’s accepted the reality that he’ll never be allowed to live the life he wants, while she is still vainly pursuing hers.

I don’t know about you, dear reader, but the people I’ve met who have always most pissed me off are the people who remind me of things I hate about myself. The people who seem to embody the flaws I’ve worked to minimize. Nick’s naive hope is what has brought him the most pain in his life. He sees this bunny full of the same naive hope, surmises that she’s facing the same failures he did and yet stubbornly refusing to learn from them. It’s irritating.

Pictured: irritation.

Maybe I am projecting, but if Nick is anything like me, he probably didn’t walk away entirely happy from this exchange. Yes, he “won,” but he was also reminded of everything about himself that he least wanted to think about.

Part 2: They Are Not Very Good at Hating Each Other

So, the thing about Judy is, she is naive. By default, she assumes people are her friend. But she’s not stupid.

Nick assumes she is stupid, not least because she hasn’t wisely given up on her dreams like he has, and...he learns that she maybe not so fun to pick on after all.

So they wind up doing the first part of this enemies-to-friends routine, allies of necessity.

So, naturally, because he is Him, he makes it his mission to torment her.

In fact, we get two whole scenes where all he does he does is watch her struggle and make this face.

The first read of this behavior is that he’s just enjoying the failures of someone he hates. He says as much later. But I would also argue--from a viewer’s perspective--Judy is ridiculously entertaining and charming throughout these encounters. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and it’s hard not to like people like that.

Is there more happening here than just schadenfreude? I won’t pretend to know for sure. But worth considering.

By the time they’re investigating the limousine, his sabotage has diminished into something more like gentle trolling. And you can’t see this face, in context...

...and tell me she isn’t starting to like him, at least a little bit.

He’s also starting to help! By the time they’re past the minor detour of almost being murdered by a mob boss, he’s entirely cooperative, helping her conduct interviews and look for clues. The movie doesn’t call particular attention to this, but it almost did.

Finally, let’s look at Nick’s behavior when they’re being chased by a rabid jaguar. He could have absolutely booked it, with no regard for the cop who was blackmailing him into helping her.

These moments go by so quickly, but they’re hugely revealing of his true character, even before he defends her in front of Chief Bogo.

He picks her up when she falls.

More importantly, when he gets to the skytram, his first instinct isn’t to jump in--it’s to hold the door for her:

He sees she can’t make it, and she even tells him to leave without her. He doesn’t. He holds the door until he can’t anymore, and as a result he’s nearly killed.

Nick is a good boy.

Part 3: They Are Friends Now

She save his life, so he saves her job. This is a key story beat, and it’s a Disney movie, so there’s not a lot of subtlety (except how the specular highlights in Judy’s eyes fade as Bogo asks for her badge--the light literally goes out of her. Go watch).

But it’s such a sweet moment of teamwork--he was contemptuous toward her from the start because she believed in herself. This is the first time she’s simply given up in the whole movie, and he steps up. Because he believes in her now.

And she believes in him! Or, she wants to.

Judy’s supportiveness here is sweet, but it’s also still a little selfish. It’s not that different from their interaction at the ice cream shop, really: she wants to meet a fox who defies stereotypes, who is easy for her to like. Someone who ticks all the boxes to prove her family wrong.

When he starts being more foxy, later--self-identifying as a predator, showing his claws, challenging her--we learn that her supportiveness is conditional.

Am I being too hard on her? Sure. She’s been in bunny country her whole life. She’s new to this and she’s trying. But that’s where she’s at.

But still! They’re friends now. They’re no longer pretending they don’t like each other. Judy’s openly encouraging, Nick is fully in her corner, and we get a few cute sequences where they keep being more and more impressed with each other.

He’s still not above affectionately messing with her, and she’s getting worse at pretending to dislike it.

And he trusts her enough to let her flush him down a toilet...

Which gives us this heartbreaking shot where he thinks she’s drowned. He cares a whole lot about this bunny.

She likes him too! Enough to want to team up on a more permanent basis. This is pretty standard-fare enemies-to-friends stuff now, but considering where we started, and considering they’ve known each other for all of two days? Not bad!

It’s clear this moment means far more to him than it does to her, too. It’s actually taken very little persuading from Judy to get him to step up and be brave and helpful and trustworthy. The fact that he’s turned around and opened up to her so fast suggests he’s been ready for an opportunity like this for his entire life, and never got it. I mean, look at his face.

The foundational flaw in her worldview is still there, though, and it’s about to do almost-irreparable damage to their whirlwind friendship.

Part 5: Fuck!

So Judy gives her press conference, and gives a great example of why police usually answer every question with “the matter is currently under investigation,” or “we’re not prepared to comment further at this time.” Honestly, though, this is on Bogo--I had coworkers who once did some press interviews, and they spent over a week doing media training. They didn’t even break a major kidnapping case. So, you know.

So she repeats some weird race science stuff she assumes is true because someone in a lab coat said it, which is amusingly similar to how race science (or “race realism”) often propagates--people with low-rent doctorates from crappy universities write a bunch of scientifically shoddy material and people say “well, he has a PhD!”

And then Nick has a PTSD flashback? I don’t want to be irresponsible and make an armchair diagnosis, but also...that is absolutely what is depicted on screen.

You’re not immediately “better” after something like this, which is why I cut Nick a bit of slack when he basically blows up their friendship.

Judy...doesn’t get it. It’s completely heartbreaking, because she likes him, and doesn’t understand why he’s mad, and isn’t self-reflective enough to stop and think maybe he has a point. Not until it’s too late. He tests her, and she fails.

Their friendship has always been a little inequal. He’s trusted her with everything, shown her his deepest vulnerabilities. She’s never trusted him completely.

So he leaves.

I don’t want to impugn her professionalism by suggesting she wouldn’t have quit the force if she hadn’t had that friendship-ending fight, but, you know. Maybe.

This is the second time she gives up, and this time he’s not there to pick her up again.

Judy is intensely goal-oriented, and I don’t think she realized what Nick’s friendship meant to her, as the first person in the city who truly believed in her, until it was too late. Judy is sweet and well-meaning but emotional intelligence is not really her strong suit (which is actually cool to see in a female Disney protagonist, imo).

So, while it would have been nice for her to track Nick down immediately and apologize, I think it makes sense for them to spend time apart. Her own self-perception has been shattered, and she needs time to figure out how she went so wrong.

So when she does come back, she delivers one of the best animated apologies I’ve ever seen. Only AtLA compares, in my mind.

Part 6: They Are Much Better Friends Now

Nick forgives her, because of course he does.

(Sidebar--people talk about how he kept her carrot pen the whole time they were apart. He also kept his handkerchief from Ranger Scouts, AND he only wears shirts that match the wallpaper in his mother’s house. He desperately needs a hug.)

Credit to Nick also, who can’t fight and has no police training whatsoever, who has multiple times been almost killed helping her out, now agreeing to help her out again. She’s not even threatening him with jail this time!

We, the viewers, are then rewarded with this great montage of them being best friends.

She’s finally stopped pretending not to be amused by his shenanigans.

(One other sidebar here--Nick is canonically a really gentle character. For all their adventuring, this is only time in the movie he gets physical with anyone: to protect the bunny. Again, he definitely can’t fight and immediately gets smacked across the room. But it’s the thought that counts, right?)

Per the post title, more visual evidence of them really liking each other.

Judy trips on a dead body, and here we get the second time in the movie that Judy tells Nick to leave without her, and he won’t--this time, he refuses explicitly.

Which then gives us the opportunity for the big moment--the culmination of all this care and intimacy and trust.

In order to con Bellwether, she lets him stalk her, and bite her throat. This has been often pointed out, but it’s important--throughout the movie, Judy’s wriggling rabbit nose has been used as a signifier of fear and suspicion. It wriggles when she’s spying on Nick at the beginning. It wriggles like hell when he confronts her after her press conference.

Not here. Doesn’t move. It’s a great, clearly intentional animation choice that tells a close observer (or more likely, a repeat viewer) that she’s completely unafraid.

She trusts him.

I could write a whole other post about how well-scripted this movie is, how every scene is doing half a dozen different things, but the way the personal and the professional come together here, the way the threads of prejudice and friendship and the police case all tie together in this moment. It’s good shit.

This is basically where things end, in terms of character development, but we get a bunch more shots of them clearly adoring each other:

So there it is.

To sum up, certainly not suggesting this movie invented “characters liking each other,” or anything like that. But it goes above and beyond in portraying a friendship that’s not just one born of circumstance, one that’s authentic and unmistakably loving. Characters who enjoy spending time with each other, regardless of what’s going on around them.

I hope everyone is able to experience friendships like that. I absolutely treasure the few I have.

Appendix: The Shipping Thing

I hope I’ve made all this ship-agnostic, which was my intention. I personally like the ship, and I think the reason it resonates with people is because that love and trust and closeness is clearly there, and a romantic relationship creates a lot more easy opportunities for dialing those things up even higher.

I would also argue, if pressed, that the amount of teasing and physicality that happens reads as pretty flirty. If they were humans I knew in real life, I’d definitely think there was something going on there. But I’m an American, where touching and emotional intimacy tends to be read as romantic. Also, animals are a lot more cuddly than humans. So who knows? I think it’s perfectly reasonable to read them as platonic friends until the end of time.

But, one way or another, they love each other a lot. Shout out to this, one of the most emotionally rewarding relationships I’ve ever seen in a cartoon.

[jjobxx]

-- Fallin’ All In You;

Pairing: Topper Thornton x Reader

Words count: 2,767

Request: I love your stuff so much😭 could you please do a Topper imagine (where he’s a good person) with the prompts 8,9, 10,14 and 33?Sorry that it’s quite a few prompts lol. I just saw that and thought it would be perfect for a pogue and that she has a crush on Topper and the others are like “Should we let her know we’re onto her?” and Topper also has a crush on her and they others try to like push them together but y/n thinks Topper likes someone else? That would be so cute and thank you for writing!

Warnings: A couple curse words, mentions of fighting. I think that’s it? Not really a warning but a cheesy!Topper at the end.

A/N: I was able to get the rest of this done at work today (shhhh, I had to wait on a coworker before I could do my paperwork so I figured why not ;D) so here you go! Anywho, if this isn’t to your liking please let me know and I’d be happy to try again. As usual, not proofed so any mistakes are my fault.  ^_^

--

Being in the background was something you were good at. You didn’t like being the center of attention, much like your older sister, and you definitely didn’t like conversations with people outside of your bubble. It wasn’t that you didn’t like people, something your older sister always seemed to aggressively tease you about, it was more-so that you were quiet by nature. You were calm and well, she was not, which is why she never understood your choice in friends. Though the both of you were raised as Pogues, your sister never stopped trying to climb the social ladder into the world of the Kooks. You on the other hand stayed close to home and kept your social circle rather small.

Everyone knew “the” Pogues – John B, Pope, Kie, and JJ – they were loud, rowdy, and lived for a good time, or three out of the four at least. You and Pope had hit it off from the beginning, your personalities similar to one another. While you were glad to have found someone who understood your quiet nature, he was glad to have found someone to at least attempt to help him keep his friends out of as much trouble as he could. Try as you two might, however, there really was no stopping the others from doing what they wanted – especially when it came to a few certain Kooks on the island. 

You never quite figured out the issue between the two classes on the island, seeing that your sister didn’t have much of a problem getting in with the Kooks when your family first moved to the Banks, but you came to a realization fairly quickly when you befriended the Pogues that the rivalry did indeed exist. Perhaps it was your sister’s beauty and flirtatious personality that got her in, or the fact that she so graciously hid her Pogue status, but nonetheless, you tried your best to stay in the middle of the fence for two reasons; it wasn’t your fight and you weren’t about to choose between your sister or your friends. So, any time a fight took place between your friends and the Kooks, you tried your best to stay out of it – not that it was hard, you were like a mouse; quiet and practically hiding behind anything or anyone you could. What you didn’t know was that, over time, you had caught the attention of one of the Kooks, Topper. You were intriguing to him. He was used to the rowdiness of your friends, expected it, but he wasn’t used to your timid nature and that someone like you would run around with the likes of the others. He didn’t know you by any means, just your name, but you confused him and he wasn’t sure if he liked the feeling or not.

Likewise,  any time there was a run-in with the Kooks, you often felt a pair of eyes on you. For the longest time you weren’t sure who they belonged to, too nervous to let your eyes wander anywhere else than on Pope, the friend you worried about the most in these situations. But you eventually gave in one day, your eyes travelling to everyone on scene. Your breath hitched as soon as your eyes met Topper’s, followed by the burning of your cheeks. He kept his gaze but you broke it, your eyes skimming the ground and then back to Pope who had been trying to hold back JJ from Rafe. Your eyes widened at the scene, knowing full well that Pope wasn’t going to be able to contain JJ much longer and that both would end up hurt if they kept at it. That’s when you decided to try something, your eyes searching for Topper’s once more, pleading him to do something. It had taken a couple moments before he spoke up. “Let’s go,” Topper nearly hissed at his friends, his hand applying pressure to Kelce’s shoulder so as to get him to follow suit. “Bullshit,” Rafe muttered. “We’re not done here,” he was matter of fact as he continued taunting JJ and Pope. “They’re not worth it,” Topper countered, “lets. go.” He enunciated his words, his jaw clenching as he waited for his friend to follow him. You could hear Rafe spew some colorful words as he gave up his position and stormed off. The five of you looked at one another, then at the trail the Kooks left behind, and then back at each other. “So, is no one going to talk about how weird that was or what?” Kie spoke up, the others agreeing with her and adding on their own opinions. The only thing you could do in this case however was mutter a small ‘yeah’ accompanied by a nervous chuckle.

The next day after that particular Kook versus Pogue fight, you had coincidentally run into Topper, though it wasn’t much of a shock running into him as you were the one on his territory. You were looking for your sister, your parents needing to speak with the both of you and she wasn’t picking up her phone, thus you had to find her. You knew to go to Figure Eight but from there you were clueless. That’s when you had heard your name being called. “Y/N!” Topper’s voice was hesitant, but much softer than the day before. “What brings you to Figure Eight?” he inquired, his gaze burning your cheeks once more. “Oh, I’m looking for my s.. friend. Layla,” you spoke just as soft, catching yourself from saying your sister as you knew she would be less than thrilled if her secret got out. She had gushed about Topper and his friends to you several times, so you knew that Topper had to of known who she was. “She’s probably at Sarah’s, I can show you the way if you’d like?” He had offered, his eyes showing a glimmer of excitement. You chalked it up to him being able to see Layla, because why would he not want to see her, but little did you know it was because he could be in your company for just a little longer. You didn’t talk much during the walk but laughed every so often as Topper would crack off some silly joke, a sound he decided he very much liked.

As you arrived however, he was a little stand offish, his attention now on your sister and her friends. You didn’t waste time in getting your sister by herself so the two of you could converse without anyone overhearing. “Mom and dad need to talk to us, but they didn’t say about what and they couldn’t get ahold of you so they wanted me to come find you,” you explained in a hushed voice. Over your conversation you could hear Topper and the others in the other room, Topper’s laugh echoing. Today was probably the first time you had heard his real, genuine laugh and much like Topper enjoying yours, you couldn’t help but to enjoy his, too. But you quickly subsided the feeling, knowing someone like him wouldn’t be caught dead with someone like you, his withdrawal from you evident when the two of you walked into the Cameron household.  

Weeks went by and the two of you seemed to walk on your tiptoes around one another. The Pogues noticed a significant difference in Topper whenever him and the others were around. He was less abrasive and not as confrontational as usual. While Kelce and Rafe would keep up with their usual shenanigans, Topper was more in the back of it all – he still uttered nonsense towards your group so as to make it seem he was still in the fight but none of it had any meaning to it. The more he saw you, the more he didn’t want to keep up with the rivalry. You felt the same way, though the thought of him liking you was unimaginable as your sister’s voice rang in your head any time your eyes met with Topper’s.  Your thoughts convinced you that your sister fancied him, and he fancied her. But the Pogues could tell otherwise by his lingering looks your way and the sorrow etched on his face whenever his friends began their tormenting. 

Your friends figured out pretty quickly that you had it bad for the Kook, as JJ had mistakenly made a comment about your sister and Topper being together one day, even though none of them really knew for sure, but they assumed that’s what Topper’s changed behavior was about. The deflation on your face was pretty obvious as you excused yourself from the group that night and hastily went to sleep. It was then that Pope had spoken up, “Should we let her know we’re on to them?” he questioned. “Both of them are crushing on one another but no one has the guts to come forward,” Pope exclaimed. “Now, where is the fun in that?” JJ offered. “You know Y/N thinks he has it bad for her sister, she’s never going to fess up to him. I say we do something about it.” The group knew JJ had a point but nonetheless it took some convincing to get the others to meddle.

A few days later and currently you were sitting next to the water at one of the many Boneyard parties your friends liked to throw. There were voices all around you, but it was white noise compared to the sound of the waves crashing onto the surface. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had just finished talking Topper into coming over to you to start up a conversation with you, while they stood opposite to observe the interaction.

You hadn’t realized someone was standing behind you until they lightly cleared their throat then spoke a gentle “Hey” towards you. You pursed your lips but politely responded with a hello of your own. He was quiet for a moment but then continued, “It’s really nice, isn’t it? The sound of the waves, I mean.” The small talk wasn’t making you feel any better about your silly crush on him. “Um yeah, it’s nice,” you gracefully stood up from your position. “I’m going to go get some water, I think Layla is around here somewhere,” you mused softly. “Wai-“ but before he could ask you to wait up, you had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

Topper’s eyes landed on your friends, a questionable look on his features. While your friends all agreed that they loved you, they felt that sometimes you could be very dense. Of course they meant it in the nicest way possible but this situation was only proving their point. Kie mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” Topper’s way before turning to the others to see about another plan. “I think it’s time for Plan B,” she smirked before explaining their next move in operation.

The next afternoon you had received a text from Kie instructing you to meet the group at her family’s restaurant. What you didn’t know was that they were currently setting up a table for just you and Topper, their Plan B to finally get the two of you together.

When you arrived inside The Wreck, the first thing you noticed was a small table with a candle sitting in the middle, the flame casting  shadows on the tablecloth. The second thing you noticed was the figure that was currently occupying the table: Topper. The timing in which your friends asked you to meet them and the timing in which Topper was there waiting on someone was unbelievable. You couldn’t believe your friends had asked you to meet them the same time Topper was going on a date with someone, someone who you assumed was your sister.

When your eyes landed on Topper, you let out an inaudible gasp and hesitantly turned away. You had just taken a few steps when you heard his voice behind you. “Where do you think you’re going?” His word choice was harsh, but his tone gentle. You squeaked out a quiet ‘what do you mean?’ before turning yourself back around to face him. “I just mean, you walk away from me every time I try to talk to you,” he responded, running his hand through his hair nervously. You bit your lip, unsure on how to answer him. “I don’t want to get my hopes up,” you finally uttered. “And besides, you have Layla to keep you company,” you countered, your voice a tad harder than you meant for it to be at the mention of your sister’s name.

The expression on his face was blank before his eyes narrowed.  “Wait, why are you so jealous of Layla?” Your shoulders shrugged. “I wouldn’t say I’m jealous, it’s just she’s so much prettier than I am,” you confessed, “she’s beautiful and she’s confident. She’s experienced, and fun, and I’m none of that,” you went on, your voice breaking at the end.

As you finished your sentence, your friends had made their way into the restaurant to see how things were going… which was clearly not what they had expected. They stayed in the sidelines though, watching to see where things were going to go.

He always knew you were timid, but he didn’t think you would be so insecure. To him you were so much more different than any one he had met on the island before. You were beautiful in your own way, kind, and caring. There was more to you than any girl he had encountered, and probably more than anyone he would ever encounter in the future, and he didn’t even know you to your fullest extent yet.

“I don’t want her though, Y/N, I want you. You make me feel… you make feel. And I hate it. I hate that someone I don’t fully know can make me feel this way, but I like you, Y/N. Not Sarah Cameron or any other girl, or even Layla, but you. You are the best kind of different there is and it’s unimaginable how you don’t see that,” he ranted on. You were quiet for a moment, soaking in the words he had just told you. You couldn’t believe that he felt this way about you, always assuming he was interested in your sister by the things she had told you. Now you felt kind of foolish to be jealous when you didn’t even have his side until now. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I had no idea,” you confessed, a small smile forming on your lips. He brought his hand up towards your face and lightly brushed your cheek, nearing your lips, with the pad of his thumb. “It’s okay, you had no idea,” he agreed, a goofy grin adorning his features. You closed your eyes for a few moments at his soft touch, then opened them, only to be met with his.

“Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” he spoke up, a light chuckle. You smiled and nodded your head, “absolutely.”

He was slow in leaning in and when your lips finally met, nothing but lightness enamored your thoughts.  Everything about this was right, and good. You and Topper were right, and good.

As the two of you finished, you both couldn’t help but giggle wholeheartedly at what just happened. And behind you, you had heard an array of reactions. There were some hoot and hollers, a couple of awes, and of course a gagging sound made by the one and only JJ. You playfully rolled your eyes at him over Topper’s shoulder.

“So, should we proceed with the date that that your friends set up for us?” he wriggled his eyebrows as he turned his attention towards the table that was still empty waiting for you two. With that, you let him lead the way and he even pulled out your chair for you.

The two of you sat there for hours, discussing anything and everything about one another. You learned there was more to Topper than just the rich party boy who desperately wanted to fit in, especially with Rafe and Kelce. Sometimes he could do or say dumb things, but he was a good person. Furthermore, even though he knew you were a genuine person, he learned that that was what you were through and through. It wasn’t a façade, and he admired you even more than before. The two of you realized how well you could balance each other out, and how much of a good thing you two were about to become.

[monomonomagines]

If its not too much trouble, could I ask for the monster AU with the sdr2 guys? I love monsters and I love the monster AU you did for v3

Howdy, Anon! I hope you don’t mind, but Mod Kokichi and I tend to get very excited with our Monster AU so we ended up having to split these into three parts this time thanks to the inclusion of Izuru. Now that my short explanation is out of the way, I hope that you’ll enjoy part one, and thanks so much for enjoying our V3 Monster AU. I plan to post the next parts tomorrow if possible so I hope that you’ll look forward to them. 

Part 1 (Part 2 here) (Part 3 here)

Twogami (shapeshifter)

You were on an evening stroll through the neighborhood when it happened.

With nothing but the marmalade light slowly fading in the distance and sound of birds chirping in the distance to keep you company.

That serenity seemed like it would last for ages that is until an inhuman screech pierced your ears.

Within an instant, you lost that peaceful moment and in another you're legs were carrying you towards that sound before you could think to do otherwise.

Now out of breath and confused by your own lack of forethought you ended up laying your eyes on a strange shadowy figure with a nasty bite wound on its leg.

It didn't seem dangerous or that it would attack you though as it lay there with sad eyes looking at you. If anything, you felt bad for the guy so you took him home with you carrying the shadowy form, feeling it's warm and weirdly fuzzy form.

Soon enough you were home though with your new "friend" in tow. Now was the time to get him some medical attention though.

You quickly grabbed some supplies and got to work. Then by the time you were done, you sent him off on his way.

It was at least a week ago since your encounter but you still wondered at times how he or it was doing. It was hard to tell really if a shapeshifter had a gender in its truest form but even then there was no use worrying about it.

Today you had to focus. There was a charity ball being held by none other than the Togami family and as your family was the one that catered the event and you being the only one with free time, you were sent to act as a representative.

Pushing open the doors you take a deep breath as you enter immediately noticing the Byakuya Togami going absolutely ham on the food your family provided.

You wouldn't have guessed he was such a big eater but even then you shouldn't stare probably. You take your eyes off of him rather embarrassed by your own lack of manners when he called out to you.

"You're S/o are you not? I must thank you and your family for most humbly procuring all this food for us. It's sure to make our event a great one."

His eyes seemed to be looking you over rather analytically yet his words were gentle as he continued.

"I know you're not accustomed to dances such as this with your status most likely but I was hoping that you would join me for the first dance tonight."

Wait, he was asking you!? Despite any protests you gave he admonished you with equal amounts of passion, insisting that he, the Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Affluent Progeny was to dance with you and there was no convincing him otherwise.

What you didn't expect was to even be close enough to Byakuya to interact with him but by the end of the night, you were both already planning on going out together again.

It had been like some fairy tale meeting, the way you two met was special and the relationship that quickly bloomed between you two was just as much.

That's why as months went by you decided you wanted to take things further. You ended up buying yourselves matching rings, they weren't similar to wedding rings but they were their own unspoken promise that you two were each other.

You were excited to propose the idea to him as he arrived for another one of your rendezvous but at the sight of the ring, he seemed nervous.

"Of course...I-I'd love to accept, it's nothing...just hand it over."

Despite his unnatural and obviously suspicious reaction you carefully drop the ring into his larger hand only to see him become a familiar shadowy figure before your very eyes. The rings, the gold in them must have turned him into his true form!

"I'm sorry....I'm not the real Byakuya Togami, S/o." he speaks up before you can react looking at you sadly as he admits. "I just wanted to be someone you could like and everyone seemed to like that Togami fellow so I tricked you. I know that it's unforgivable though, for me to think that we could continue like that forever so, I'll leave if that's what you please."

He seemed so genuine and yet it was hard to formulate a response. What he did was wrong, you knew it but he meant so well and you couldn't turn him away then.

Telling him to wait, Togami or Twogami turns to you perplexed by your response. Confused or not though, you reached down to pick up his smaller, plump, shadowy body.

"S/o I...thank you."

Teruteru (Incubus)

When Teruteru applied to join you in the kitchen at your family dinner you didn't think anything much of him at first.

Sometimes he'd make perverted passes at you or tease a bit but overall he was kind and a reliable coworker. You both would spend many days and nights in that kitchen just chatting as you cooked and cleaned after a hard day of work.

However, as you both continued to close your shop together you couldn't help but find him alluring in some way.

Alluring and yet there was something odd about him. Teruteru always seemed to have some new girlfriend or boyfriend to spend time with after work whenever you tried to invite him out.

Maybe his flirting meant nothing after all but even then it felt so real that trying to convince yourself it wasn't was even more painful.

You were tempted, his flirtations were sweet as honey but what if you'd regret indulging in your own sweet temptations. He could be some player or heartbreaker for all you know after all.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of your head though you decided you had enough of being lead on by the fellow chef.

You waited until it was just you two and the remains of your labor left in the kitchen.

Per usual, he started with his usual small talk when you hushed him up with all the questions that tormented you day and night. Did he like you, did he hate you, was he messing with you, and most of all why? If it wasn't anything then why, why bother!?

He was shocked to say the less and thrown off guard for sure as he leaned onto a counter covered by flour in a moment of clumsiness to steel himself.

"I...I do have a reason for my flirtin' n' all but I just...yah need to promise y'all won't fire me if I spill the beans!"

Huh? So first he admits to lying something but then what's with the sudden accent too!? As much as you wanted to laugh at his nervous mistake of coating most of his sleeves in flour, you decided to urge him to go on.

"Well, I do like yah a whole lot but...but I'm also a...I'm an Incubus." He admits, showing off his normally hidden demonic form as though to emphasize his point.

"I want to be with yah really, but I don't wanna take anythin' from yah because of these dang powers a mine."

Sucking in a shaky breath you make your way towards him, disregarding his warnings against getting close and pulling his short frame to your own. You didn't care if he was an Incubus, even if you couldn't have his body you wanted his heart far more and would do anything for it.

"Oh S/o, how could'ja take in a guy like me?"

Nekomaru (Stone Golem)

You were taking a hike on a trail through the mountains. Your plans were to make it to the top in order to look out at the beautiful scenery before your eyes but those plans surely changed when you noticed a weird statue standing at your goal point.

It wasn't too odd for a statue to be somewhere like a mountain top your supposed but something about it made you feel unnerved.

Maybe it was because of how the statue looked as though it were mid-scream or maybe because of how eerily alive it felt. However, around you, it didn't move what so ever, the only other point of interest now the large piece missing from the side of the statue.

At this point, it felt a bit awkward being up there with this thing silently screaming at you forever so you decided to focus on searching for the piece you noticed missing and sure enough it wasn't far.

Picking it up in your hands wasn't too difficult despite the obvious weight to it and with trembling hands, you were easily able to place it in it's allotted slot.

That was when that silent scream of his turned into a roar, loud enough for you to feel it shake you as his large arms came to wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace.

"GAHAHAHA! I'M FREEEEEE!" he yells out, once loud enough for anyone nearby to hear him a second time.

Now setting you down he smiles at you, finally addressing you this time. "Thanks for saving me, I knew someone would have to find me eventually!"

He gives another hearty laugh at your own confused expression, not even bothering to give you time to process what's going on as he speaks up once again.

"I guess that means that I owe you now but don't you worry. I always pay back my debts," he scratches around his nose, adding, "Though all I can offer is to protect you from now on. Tell you what, I'll be like your bodyguard even!"

Despite you opening your mouth he only continues to go on, taking this proposition far more seriously than you thought he would.

"With me around NO ONE will touch you for I am NEKOMARU NIDAI!" he cheers, picking you up again despite your protests.

"No way am I letting you walk! It's my job to protect you so just tell me which way to go!"

Despite his kindness, he really was far too insistent, but even then you could tell you weren't getting out of this so you relented, eventually arriving home in his arms.

It's been about a month since that day that Nekomaru came to live with you. With the two of you growing closer each day it wasn't surprising for you to have developed feelings for the kind golem, but you did worry about what would happen when you'd confess.

Would he leave if he didn't feel the same? Despite your fears, you wanted to face him and to lay all of your feelings bare for him to see.

You two were planning to revisit the path that you met at and so you planned to then, bursting into your confession as soon as you arrived.

You hadn't meant to be so hasty but with Nekomaru it's hard not to be, you wanted to just rip the bandage off and be over with. You were prepared for the consequences of your actions but you didn't suffer at all like you might've guessed.

No, the only suffering you were enduring was from the lack of air when Nekomaru wrapped his arms around you again just like he did when you met.

"I was wondering when you'd say it! I love you too, S/o!"

Wait he knew? As soon as you questioned him though all he did was laugh as usual.

"GAHAHAHA! I thought you knew I did too already. I mean we lived together after all!"

What!?

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable Ch 27: The Instincts (S4E6)

Warnings: kidnapping, murder of children, nightmares

Ch 26 | Ch 28

~ ~ ~

It took a few weeks of just talking. About anything and everything with each other. But Spencer was finally certain that Lydia was his other half. 

They were just so similar. It was eerie to him, because ever since he’d met her he’d thought she was everything he wasn’t: outgoing, brave, and impulsive. But in all the ways that mattered, they were exactly the same. Ambitious and moral and smart. And all his fears and anxieties couldn’t keep him from loving that about her. The good and the bad. They were perfectly matched in their passion and their stubbornness.

Eventually, Spencer had to leave for yet another case and it turned out to be far more difficult than he had foreseen. Upon boarding the jet, he’d fallen asleep, which was unusual enough as was. But he was woken up from a very strange nightmare by Rossi, who was concerned about him mumbling in his sleep.

He had almost forgotten entirely about his dream by that evening. The case they were working was a child abductor case. The unsub had kidnapped a 5-year-old boy and called the parents to torment them once or twice, before suffocating the child seven days later. They had just taken another boy, by the name of Michael Bridges.

Hotch had ordered Reid and Morgan to stay with the family that night in case they received another phone call. So Spencer and his coworker were drifting off on the couches downstairs when something caught his eye.

There was a door in the hallway parallel to the stairs. He could have sworn that hadn’t been there when they arrived, but nonetheless, he felt compelled to go check it out.

Quietly getting up, he walked over and found that the new discovery led down to a basement. As he stepped down, he reached for his gun, a sinking feeling coming over him.

The basement was for the most part empty. Directly across from the entrance was a washer and dryer, their bright white color standing out against the beige walls. And just peeking out behind the washer were two tiny feet with jeans and black tennis shoes on.

Spencer approached, but stopped short before he could see any more of the body. At the sound of footsteps, he turned and found Morgan and Rossi behind him. He didn’t for a moment question why Rossi was there.

“We couldn’t find any evidence of forced entry.”

“Why would that matter?” Spencer asked. Something was wrong. Everything about this was insanely familiar. He’d been here before. Seen this before.

“‘Cause it means he most likely knew his attacker,” Morgan argued, but at that point, Spencer had stopped listening.

There were strange lumps forming on his chest. Ripping open the front of his button down, he was horrified to find multiple leeches attached to his torso.

“Get them off me!” he shrieked. “Morgan, get them off me! Morgan!”

“Reid!” Morgan’s voice was fainter than he remembered. Morgan was right behind him, wasn’t he? “Reid! Wake up! It’s Morgan.”

Spencer’s eyes flew open and found himself back on the couch of the Bridges home, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. Morgan had turned on a nearby lamp and was hovering over him, concern filling his face.

It was the same dream he’d had on the jet. The only difference was the first time he’d woken up trying to get JJ’s unborn baby off the scene and this time, he’d woken up while covered in leeches. Reid didn’t believe in dream analysis… but why did it change?

“What the hell’s going on?” Mr. Bridges demanded, him and his wife rushing down the stairs.

“Sir, ma’am,” Morgan addressed, “everything’s okay.”

“You wake us up screaming and you think everything’s okay?”

“Look, I understand we startled you and I’m sorry for that.”

“You’re the FBI!”

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re right,” he stuttered. “You’re right. I’m, just, I’m really sorry.”

Morgan watched him for a moment, seeing his shoulders shudder up and down as he caught his breath. Then he turned back to the couple. “Sir, please, go back upstairs and try to get some rest. It was just a misunderstanding. Everything is fine, I promise you that.”

Mr. Bridges stormed off in a huff, but his wife stuck around for a moment, shuffling her feet on the steps. “Are you okay?”

“It was a dream,” he said, then gulped. “I’m really sorry.”

“Was it about Michael?”

Spencer didn’t know. He hadn’t seen any more than a small pair of black sneakers. But for her sake, he shook his head.

“I’ve been afraid to close my eyes,” she continued. “I’m scared I’ll see him die.”

He opened his mouth. The words ‘Don’t worry’ died in his throat. They weren’t true. He didn’t believe them. The chances of finding Michael were so slim. So he stood there with his mouth hanging open.

“Ma’am, I know it’s hard,” Morgan interrupted, softly. “But I need you to go upstairs and try to get some sleep…” Her eyes never left Spencer. “Please. I am sorry for the disturbance.”

Finally, she turned on her heel and left, turning off the hall light as she went.

“I’m making everything worse,” Spencer sighed.

“Reid… these cases get to all of us.”

“I’m losing it in their living room. And I’m dreaming- I’m dreaming about dead kids and being covered in leeches.”

“What the hell is scaring you?”

It took a few moments for Spencer to phrase his feelings into a coherent thought. “This boy’s going to die and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

~ ~ ~

The next day was the funeral for the first boy who’d been kidnapped. With the amount of remorse the unsub showed with his body, they figured it was likely they’d be at the funeral to show respect to the child they’d killed.

Hotch wanted Michael’s parents there as well. It was possible they’d recognize the unsub or even just be able to tell if someone was watching them. And the unsub… The unsub would definitely by watching.

After getting changed into dark clothing, Spencer went upstairs to look around Michael’s room again.

“Hey kid,” Morgan called, appearing in the door not moments later. “We’re almost ready to go.”

“You know, they’re right. Odds are we’ll catch the unsub when he dumps the body or when he tries to snatch another kid.”

“I know the odds, Reid.”

It was so negative. Spencer wasn’t normally a pessimist, but the whole situation was bullshit. It was his job to save this kid. Why couldn’t he just… just save him? “It’s weird. Some things never go away.” He stepped away from his friend to pick up something off Michael’s desk to show him. “When I was a kid, every boy I knew had piles of dinosaur toys.”

He set down the green tyrannosaurus where he found it.

“Not you?” Morgan asked knowingly.

“I had books and notebooks. My mom filled hundreds of them with poems by W.S. Erwin and songs by Bob Dylan. She liked it when I memorized them. She was convinced that they were watching us and writing songs about our lives.”

Where are you going with this? he asked himself. What is bothering you so much that you’re sitting here tossing around a six-year-old’s dinosaurs?

“Basements are the first part of a house to be built, right?” he blurted out. “So, if you’re having a recurring dream about a basement, kinda speaks to the core fundamentals of who you are as a person.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in dream analysis?”

“Freud’s been discredited, but Jung still has his merits… My dream? The dead boy? I’ve been having different versions of it since I was a little kid.”

“Hey.” Morgan made a few steps closer to him. “Have you talked to Lydia about this?”

“Why would I talk to Lydia about this?”

“Because you trust her,” Morgan insisted. “You love her a lot and I have the feeling she might be able to talk you through some of this. You know, no one would think less of you if you took a little time off to talk with her and get your head together.”

Spencer knit his eyebrows together. How would that help? It was a stupid dream anyway, wasn’t it? “I just want to find this boy,” he insisted, then stepped around Morgan and headed downstairs towards the car.

~ ~ ~

As Hotch handed the young Michael Bridges off to his family, Morgan was frustrated to see Spencer standing apart from the group, clearly lost in his own thoughts. This is what he wanted. They found Michael alive.

He wondered if it was a mistake to show him the Riley Jenkins case. Riley Jenkins had died at six, when Spencer was four, and many of the case details lined up to Spencer’s dreams: he was found in his basement, behind a washing machine, and lived in Las Vegas, very close to where Spencer lived.

“You know, this is about as good a day as we’re gonna get on this job.”

“I know,” Spencer mumbled.

“And yet you’re still thinking about a boy you’re not even sure if you really knew.”

His grimace didn’t reassure Morgan in his statement. “When I was four, my mother had a sense that I was in danger.”

“Reid, your mother wasn’t well.”

“I know facts about the case,” he argued.

“Reid, you’ve got a photographic memory. Odds are, you saw the story-- he was just a kid like you-- and it caught your imagination.”

“I don’t really think that you believe that.”

Profilers. He should know better than to lie to Reid. “You want to know what I really believe?” he mended. “I believe you could have done anything in this world with your life, and you chose to do this job. Your man Carl Jung says our unconscious is the key to our life’s pursuits.”

It took Spencer a moment to confirm that what Morgan said was correct. “Yeah… Yeah.”

“So, for whatever reason, that case was stuck in your brain all these years, and it not only led you to this career choice but to the same city where your mother lives, and for us to have the opportunity to save this child.”

It finally seemed like he was breaking through. Spencer gave him the smallest smile. But Derek knew that he wasn’t going to really get through to him. That’s why he had a backup plan.

“Like I said, this is probably as good a day as we’re gonna get, man. Enjoy your moment.”

Hotch appeared from around Morgan’s shoulder to join their group and Spencer seemed to think of something. “Hey, Hotch? Do you think it would be possible to wait until tomorrow to return home?”

Hotch looked down as if contemplating, then turned to Morgan. “Do you think you could find something to do in Vegas for the night?”

Derek didn’t try to stop the grin that was spreading across his face. Hotch knew that no one on the team would argue about a night off in Vegas. Especially not him. So the two of them wandered off, but as they left, Derek could tell Spencer was still thinking about Riley Jenkins.

Alright, plan B then… 

Hotch gave him a questioning look as he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number, but Morgan didn’t care. The whole team could listen for all he cared, if it meant Spencer got out of this slump.

“Hello?”

“Lydia? When was the last time you spoke with Spencer?”

“Uh… he sent me a goodnight text last night? But that’s been our only communication while he’s been in Vegas. Why?”

“I think you should give him a call and ask about his nightmares.”

“He hasn’t told me about any nightmares…”

“I know. But he’s woken up shouting twice on this case so far. He told me about it, but I just can’t seem to help.”

“How do you propose I bring it up to him?”

“You can tell him I told you. He’s gonna know I interfered either way.”

“Okay… Thanks, Derek.”

“Good luck, kiddo.”

Tags: @kris-stuff​, @wooya1224​, @bispences​, @anotherr-fine-mess​, @eddysocs​

[shyvioletcat]

At some point in the fireman au: “I always sleep best when you’re next to me.” 😉

Here we go ladies and gentlemen. This one is long and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. Have a mentioned this is a slow burn? Maybe I should have….

Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin watched her class packed up for the day. They had been pretty good today, well as good as 20 mostly eight year olds could be. The room was buzzing with energy as they all waited the 2 minutes until the bell. 

“Miss G, who’s our talker for Wednesday?” Harris asked from his desk near the front. 

“I can’t tell you, it will ruin the surprise,” Aelin explained with a smile. 

Truthfully she actually didn’t have anyone one lined up for the career week presentations. Each class would have someone from a different profession come in and present. Then the following week each class would set up their own presentation about the profession in the hall for the rest of the school to see. Two days out and Aelin still didn’t have a presenter. 

She had planned to ask Yrene but Lysandra has snapped her up first. She’d used Chaol last year so that wasn’t an option and just about everyone else was busy that day. If it came down to it Aelin would just do it. 

The bell rang and the kids were up and moving. She smiled and waved as they filed out then started to pack up her own desk. 

“I am ready to strangle Chloe and Sarah,” Lysandra said as she appeared in the doorway. “You’d think they’d wait at least until they were 13 before they started oozing attitude.” 

Aelin laughed. “Yeah. I don’t love teaching 11 year olds.”

“Well, someone has to,” Lysandra said as she sat on the edge of Aelin’s desk. “Who’d you get to present for job week?”

“No one yet. Seeming as you stole my presenter,” Aelin said as she slipped her laptop into her bag. 

“Whatever. You were just too slow,” Lysandra replied. 

“I practically gave you the idea.”

“How I remember the conversation going is “Yrene would be good” then I said “yeah” and then that was it. No dibs called,” Lysandra explained. 

Aelin snorted. “That’s a weak argument and you know it.” 

Lysandra just shrugged. Aelin flicked a pen lid at her. 

“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you ask your temporary roommate?” Lysandra said as she flicked the pen lid right back. Aelin caught it. 

“I don’t know. It’s short notice and he’s been acting a bit weird since…” Aelin trailed off. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. 

Lysandra just looked as if she ha been handed a piece of her favourite cake. “Weird since what? Did you kiss him? Make out? Did you have sex with him?”Lysandra’s voice was rising higher and higher with each question and just as she asked the last one a small group of students walked past the open door. 

“Lys,” Aelin hissed as she swatted at Lysandra’s arm. “It no to all the above. But,” Aelin took in a deep breath and looked to the ceiling, “he is sleeping in my bed.”

“What?” The exclamation rang throughout the empty classroom. “You haven’t done A, B or C, but he’s sleeping in your bed?”

“He was going to lose his position at work. The couch was giving him a bad back and he refused to go home so I offered him the bed,” Aelin explained matter of factly.

“And where, pray tell, are you sleeping?”

Aelin shifted uncomfortably then mumbled almost inaudibly, “In the bed.” 

Lysandra stood and jabbed Aelin’s shoulder. “You haven’t told me this before now! You’re practically married.” Then she laughed. “But like, married for 20 years married. Because you’re sleeping in the same bed but there’s no sex.”

“First of all, ouch,” Aelin said and she rubbed where Lysandra and poked her. “Second of all… yeah basically.”

Lysandra cackled. 

“But like I said he’s been acting a bit weird since then so he probably won’t say yes.”

“Maybe it’s because he likes you. I’ve seen what you wear to bed. If I were him I’d like you a lot,” Lysandra said. 

Aelin shook her head. “No he’s just feeling guilty and has a caveman era need to protect.”

“Yeah okay, whatever you say,” Lysandra said as they started walking to the door. “Just wait until I tell Aedion.”

“Don’t. I don’t need his input on this,” Aelin said as she locked her classroom door. 

A dramatic sigh sounded from behind her. “Fine. You steal all my fun.”

~~~

Aelin sat up in bed reading by the light of the lamp on her bedside table. It was getting later than she usually stayed up but Rowan wasn’t here yet. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was waiting for her to be asleep before he came over, which he had in fact done last night. Hence the accusation of weirdness she’d explained to Lysandra.

She didn’t know what she had done, but she also could be reading way too much into it and nothing at all was wrong. It was after all just one night. Aelin started reading again when she heard the front door open and then the lock slide into place. Within a few moments Rowan appeared in her doorway, blanket and pillow in hand, with a look of surprise on his face. 

“Oh, I didn’t expect you to be up,” he said. 

“Hoping to sneak in while I was asleep?” Aelin asked as she shut her book. 

Rowan shrugged, “I didn’t want to disturb your routine.”

“You’re not disturbing me at all. In fact I’d say I always sleep best when you’re next to me,” Aelin accentuated her words with a pat on the bed and a sultry little smile. Which turned into a wicked grin as Rowan flushed. Tormenting him was becoming one of her new favourite pass times.

Rowan then pointedly ignored her as he approached the bed. Aelin removed her spare pillow and he laid down on top of Aelin’s bedding before pulling his own comforter blanket over him. 

Aelin then dropped the playful facade and steeled herself, readying for the disappointment.

“I actually have a favour to ask.”

She heard Rowan roll over to face her and Aelin looked at him, his hands tucked under his cheek. 

“Does it involve me having to vacate the apartment for an evening?”

It was Aelin’s turn flush at what Rowan implied. When did she become a prude?

“No. Lucky for it doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice a night away from my bed. There’s this careers week at school -”

“School?” Rowan asked.

“I’m a primary school teacher,” Aelin explained.

“I didn’t know that,” Rowan said.

Aelin just powered on. “So careers week. We get people from all different professions come in and give a presentation to a class. I’ve left it kind of late and it’s on Wednesday. I was wondering if there was any chance that you could come in and give a presentation to my class about being firefighter.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed as he thought about it. Aelin assumed he was he was working out the best way to refuse.

“You know what, never mind. It too short notice and -”

“I can probably do it. Wednesday right? I’ll have to talk to my Chief but I’ll most likely be able to do it. I might just have to remain on call.”

Aelin blinked in surprise. “Really? Because that would be great.”

“Yeah it should be fine,” Rowan said as he rolled to lay on his back.

Aelin smiled a little, “Well thanks.”

Then she turned her lap off and settled herself into bed, her back to Rowan. “Maybe discourage the breaking down the door thing though,” Aelin added.

Rowan chuckled softly behind her. The sound was like a gentle caress over Aelin’s skin making her shiver. Aelin promptly shut any other thoughts about that sound and the way it made her feel. It was increasingly obvious Rowan wasn’t interested so there was no reason for her to entertain that idea for one second. 

~~~~~

Rowan woke up to his phone buzzing and he quickly switched his alarm off, not wanting to wake up Aelin who was still asleep beside him.

As he got out of bed his eyes strayed to her. She was lying on her back, one arm draped above her head, her braided hair fuzzy and loose in places. When Aelin was asleep her face relaxed and she looked so peaceful and content. Definitely not like she was planning some way to provoke him, which seemed to be all the time.  

Not wanting it to get weird by staring and a sleeping woman he barely knew Rowan decided to leave and head back to his apartment to get ready for work. On his way out he remembered their conversation about the presentation for her class. Stopping by the kitchen bench to he wrote Aelin a message on a sticky note. As he did Rowan smiled a bit at the memory of how she had covered every inch of his door in them. In hindsight it was a little funny, but at the time he had been fuming.

I’ve got to head to work but here’s my number. Text me yours and I’ll let you know how I go.

He added his number to the sticky note and left.

~~~~~

Rowan and his team were checking their gear when he asked his boss about helping Aelin out.

“Lorcan, can I have an hour or two out of the station tomorrow? I’ll remain on call and will be able to respond to any call outs, if that helps.”

“Why?” Lorcan asked checking the fittings on his helmet.

“It’s to help out,” Rowan went to say friend but he stumbled on the word. Were they friends? He wasn’t sure. “Someone who I owe a favour too.”

“Why?” Lorcan asked again.

“Why do I owe them a favour or why am I asking?”

“I’ll take both,” Lorcan said as he moved on to checking his fire fighting suit.

“She’s a neighbour and she works at the local primary school. They’re having a careers week type thing and she’s asked if I can talk to her class,” Rowan explained. Avoiding that looming question of exactly why he owed his neighbour a favour.

“Wait,” Fenrys piped in. “Is this the same neighbour whose door you busted down because you thought you smelled smoke?”

Rowan glared death at Fenrys, who was just gleefully smiling.

“You what?” Lorcan asked, a rare glimmer of amusement on his face.

“Fenrys. Did you have to?” Rowan said as he glared at his friend. Fenrys shrugged, still grinning. “It was after that big factory fire a few weeks ago. I came home, still high on the adrenaline, thought I smelled smoke… and broke her door.”

Lorcan laughed. So did his other coworkers.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he said as he finished up on his gear check.

“Yeah do whatever,” Lorcan said as he finished up as well. “If we get a call you leave. That’s it.”

“Thanks.” Then Rowan turned to Fenrys. “How’s about we get some training in before Friday’s fitness test?”

Fenrys groaned knowing that Rowan was going to murder him  

~~~~~

Aelin was at the coffee machine in the staffroom waiting for her cup to fill. She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt a piece of paper crumple beneath her fingers. Confused Aelin pulled it out of her pocket.

She left out a soft ‘Oh’ as she realised what it was. It was Rowan’s number. She’d stuffed it into her pocket this morning on the way out the door.

The coffee machine finished its job and Aelin picked up her cup and sat at a nearby table. She smoothed out the sticky note and entered Rowan’s number into her phone. Then she composed her message.

Hey. It’s your lovely neighbour. Will you me joining me at my workplace tomorrow?

Aelin read it over and cringed. She deleted it all and tried again.

Hi Rowan, it’s Aelin. Any word on tomorrow?

Much better. He was doing her a favour and I told was a professional setting, she’d have plenty time later for riling comments. Aelin pressed send.

“Hey Aelin.”

“Hi Elide,” Aelin said at the small dark haired beauty. “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty hectic,” Elide said as she sat. I was meant to have a session off but it seems my better time is better spent running errands.”

Elide worked as a teachers aide and she moved from class to class. But some teachers sometimes used her like a secretary.

“Just come into my and sit in the corner. I don’t care,” Aelin said. Then her phone buzzed.

All good for tomorrow. Don’t let the kids eat me alive. Please.

“What are you smiling at?” Elide asked.

“I just secured my presenter for tomorrow,” Aelin said. “I highly recommend you come to my class for it. You definitely won’t regret it.”

“Why?” Elide asked.

Aelin grinned, “You’ll have to wait and see.”

~~~~~

EDIT: Turns out I completely left out a chapter from my masterlist so I added to this chapter because it was really the easiest thing to do.

Tags: @tangledraysofsunshine @nalgenewhore @highqueenofelfhame @galyxsy @fucking-winchester-trash @literary-licorice @http-itsrebecca @highladyofthesith @aelinfire-bringer @soup-that-is-too-hawt @sleep-and-books @3am-reading @average-girl-at-best @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @rowaelinforeverworld @alifletcher2012 @westofmoon @tswaney17 @mydarlingfireheart @rowansfirebringer @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen @vanilla28 @fireheart-of-your-dreams @enquires-state-building @im-not-rare-im-rarr @your-high-lady

[thecreelhouse]

27 and 35 from the prompt list please and thanks!

Ok I know on the previous request I was like nah I’m not gonna do one related to s3, but guess what! I did it here WHOOPS sorry okay anyway ty sweet anon I hope you like this!!!

This wasn’t how your summer job was supposed to go. It was just supposed to be slinging ice cream for the visitors of Starcourt and the privileged brats who spent their parents’ money on clothes they didn’t need. It was just supposed to be a way to earn a little cash to save aside for college in the fall.

It was just supposed to be that, a summer job, nothing more.

There was nothing in the job description about finding your way into an underground Russian base, deep beneath the floors of Starcourt, and yet, here you were.

Stuck in some room, far from the normalcy of Hawkins, bound to a chair, back to back with your coworker, Steve.

This shockingly wasn’t the weirdest part of the story.

What was weird, was how you and Steve were actually friends long ago, as kids. You know, before the titles of status and popularity in the high school’s food chain. Before Steve looked at you with disgust for simply dressing a little different than his friends, listening to different music, hanging with different crowds.

Maybe that wasn’t entirely fair to him, though. You did your fair share of judging when you passed him in the halls, or saw him out and about, driving with his shitty friends, no cares in the world.

For Steve to land on your level at the start of the summer was rich. A cruel joke from the universe. What shit luck, to witness the downfall of Steve “The Hair” Harrington, only to watch it all unravel from the same level you stood on.

“Steve, you need to wake up, now.” You grumbled, trying to elbow him, but were unsuccessful with the restraints holding your arms against your sides.

“Inna’ minute... Jus’ a few more minutes...” Steve mumbled, and you were relieved to hear some sort of reply out of him. Finally.

You shimmied your shoulders, hoping it would be enough movement to shake him from his sleep, though unsuccessful. “Harrington, you gotta get up. I’ll kick your ass if you don’t.”

“No y’won’t... Not right now...” Steve muttered, groaning as he rolled his neck.

“Smartass.” You quipped, rolling your eyes. Even in a situation like this, he still had to be the funny guy. He laughed lightly, more groans of pain following the laughter. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

“‘M up, whaddya want?” Steve mumbled, rolling his head back to your shoulder. In the corner of your eye, you could see his bloody, swollen face, still smirking at you. It annoyed you. It irritated you. It made your heart flutter, all at once.

Such a terrible time to remind yourself of this hopeless crush. It’s been there since you were kids, and you thought it died down by now, but working together just proved yourself wrong.

You were head over heels for your old friend, and you wished you weren’t. Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you weren’t.

“You know where we are? What’s going on?” You asked, rushed, hoping he wasn’t fully detached from reality.

“Wish it was my bed. I’m fuckin’ tired.” He said with a dry laugh, and you wished you could show him a sympathetic smile, something, but being back to back limited that.

You’d do anything to comfort him right now. All the shitty past aside, you just wanted things to be okay. You wanted to get out of here alive.

In no time, Russian soldiers were back in the room with you, threatening the two of you, tormenting you both, injecting some sort of god-awful drugs into your bodies, waving weapons about in front of your faces, hoping to get a rise out of you.

Again, in no time, though, Dustin, Erica and Robin were barreling into the room, charging at the Russians with found weapons of their own. Time was more fluid than ever, and you were certain it had to be the strange chemicals they pumped into your bodies.

The venture back to the surface, back to safety, was a blur. Before you knew it, you were puking your guts out in the mall’s bathroom, a few stalls away from Steve.

“Maybe it got that shit out of our systems.” You mumbled, curled up against the toilet. The cool tile felt good against your skin, almost grounding you back into reality. A few stalls away, you saw Steve shift, laying his legs across the stall’s space.

“God I hope so. That was terrible.” Steve groaned, and you heard his head softly thunk against the stall.

“I dunno, might not be as terrible as the time we convinced each other to eat glue sticks in second grade.” You said, unsure how the memory resurfaced right now, but you took it and ran with it, giggling. It rose laughter out of Steve, too.

“Fuck, I forgot all about that.” He snorted. “Why were we such stubborn idiots as kids?”

“Did we ever really grow out of it?” You jokingly asked, but knew it was still a valid question. The two of you may have changed in style, values, and friendships, yet here you were, still by each other’s sides. Something was stubborn as hell about that.

“Guess not.” He sighed, and moments later, pushed himself under the stalls to your side. Your legs brushed against one another’s, sending tiny sparks of electricity under your skin. Steve’s gaze locked with yours. “Why did we stop being friends?”

You couldn’t help bitterly laughing. “You did that, not me, remember? You wanted nothing to do with me.”

“You got weird.” He countered, and you scoffed.

“It was high school! Everyone was weird!” You argued back, crossing your arms in a huff. “You just didn’t like that we were different from each other.”

Steve shrugged, looking away. “It’s not that. ... I just didn’t know how to be friends with you and those assholes at the same time.”

Rolling your eyes, you yelled, “I’m so sorry our friendship was such a burden to hold to you and your shitty friends’ shitty standards!”

Steve snapped his head back, looking at you, as you rubbed your eyes, trying not to cry. You graduated months ago, yet the wounds were still fresh.

“What are you apologizing for? You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You’re not the one who fucked up.” He said sadly before closing his eyes as he tilted his head back against the stall again. “I gave up what we had for a bunch of shitty scumbags who never really gave a fuck about me. Not in the ways you did.”

Your eyes settled on his, softening with your heart as you heard his words. Never in a million years would you expect to hear Steve admit that he fucked this up, but he did.

“You still drugged?” You asked, a smile creeping on the edge of your lips. Steve snorted, shaking his head.

“Even if I am, it’s still the truth. Reconnecting with you has been the only good thing about this shit job.” Steve admitted, hand reaching out to yours, fingers weaving in between each other’s. The butterflies started up again, full force. “Seeing you every day has made me really see how much I fucked up.”

“Yeah, I guess I missed your shitty jokes every now and then, too.” You teased, and he shook his head with a laugh, flipping you off with his free hand. You stuck a tongue out, grabbing his hand, pushing away the obscene gesture, before realizing how close you two were.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and Steve’s gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips, leaning in just slightly, close enough to-

The bathroom door slammed open, and it startled the two of you apart again. A blush crept along your face as you looked over to see Dustin, Erica and Robin in the doorway, once more, coming to you and Steve’s rescue.

“Okay, what the hell?” Dustin snapped, but it only caused you and Steve to burst into a fit of giggles once more.

Somewhere among the chaos of the hell within Starcourt, you knew things would be alright. Alright enough to let each other back into your lives, and maybe start over fresh where you couldn’t once before.

[fromsolowithlove]

Like a Sucker Punch - Complete

WARNING: REAL PERSON FANFICTION w/ Adam Driver & Daisy Ridley (Daiver)

WARNING TAGS:  NSFW, INFIDELITY, CONSENSUAL INFIDELITY, EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY

Summary: Daisy gets in her head and tries to ignore unresolved feelings for Adam throughout the filming of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy and the events that surround it. Each chapter inspired by a song from the lovely Sigrid.

Words: 11.2K

Rating: Very much E. NSFW. Unless you have a very understanding boss. Or are self-employed.

Ultimately decided to post the complete fic here on Tumblr as well, cause why the hell not? This little fic baby got its start here first anyways before moving onto AO3.

Again, this isn’t for you if you can’t stand the shipping of Daiver. In no way does this reflect my deep dark conspiracy theories. It’s just my work of FICTION. A fun outlet. An angsty rom-com, if you will, starring two people with fantastic natural chemistry.

Now that I’ve lost all my followers 😈, READ THE ENTIRE FIC BELOW👇🏽

Chapter 1 - Strangers

“How about a twenty, folks?” JJ called for a break after deciding something wasn’t quite right about the scene they were filming. Rey and Kylo’s kiss had to carry the weight of three movies worth of waiting. Everyone involved knew its scale. It couldn’t be half-assed.

“Let’s make it a tight twenty,” Adam clarified.

Daisy sat up first, letting her chest fall over her legs. She inhaled a deep breath as she felt the fatigue of the past week settle into her bones.

Adam reached for her hand and pulled her up to a standing position.

“I wish JJ would give us a little more in terms of what he wants,” he muttered.

Daisy pulled her mouth into a tight smile and replied, “Well you know what he said. He wants us to decide how the moment should go. Says we know best about how our characters would have felt finally getting to this point.”

“And yet he’s obviously not happy with whatever we’re giving him.” Adam’s voice rose, but he relaxed his shoulders and tried to shake it off. “Sorry Dais, you know I’m not frustrated with you.” He offered her a small smile in repentance, his mouth barely angling up, but eyes filled with warmth.

Daisy playfully slapped his chest with her open hand. “Uh-huh. SURE.” She turned to walk away, smiling to herself as she heard him let out a low chuckle.

She walked off to the side, picked up her water bottle and raised it to her lips. She let it absently fill her up as she stared at Adam across the way. She couldn’t believe the warmth that was developing in her stomach again. Her cheeks followed closely behind as the familiar flush returned. She wanted to slap herself.

Leading up to this point, Daisy had thought herself finally over him. Had she and Adam shared intimate moments during their prior years filming together? Of course. Skellig Michael was an especially treasured moment. After all, there had been such a small group of cast and crew present. It had made it easy to pretend this wasn’t some crazy heavy-budget movie that was resting on her shoulders. “Don’t go through the crew like wildfire!” Carrie had warned. And she hadn’t. Adam wasn’t the crew. He was her co-star. And did she know in her logical mind about the infamous co-star syndrome? Of course, she did. She quickly reminded herself of a time back at Tring Park. She had started feeling a deep fondness and attraction to her costar back in Romeo and Juliet. But just as her lines and blocking points had faded from memory with time, so had her attraction.

This thing with Adam, however, had not. And it angered her. Confused her. Made her unsure of whether she could trust herself. Made her question if she had it in her to continue a career as an actress. Would she fall for every costar she ever had? Jeez, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? No one would want to hire a walking lawsuit waiting to happen. A little voice deep inside had always told her that she was a fraud. That she didn't deserve to be in the presence of the great actors that she called friends and coworkers.

“You know… I’ve got this friend who’s working on casting ‘Into the Woods’. I could throw your name her way. I see you as the perfect Milky White.”

Suddenly, Daisy was snapped back to reality by a teasing voice to her right. She raised her eyebrows and side-eyed the man who had been occupying her thoughts.

“What?”

“You know. Because you just finished that water bottle in one swig and cows really love water,” Adam began to explain.

“I thought that was camels?”

“Nope. Cows.” He paused for a brief moment before adding in, “Yeah, definitely cows.”

“You’re an odd one, bestie,” she teased.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

As if I had a choice. Trust me, I’ve been trying to put up my distance, she thought.

Before she had a chance to respond with another snarky response, JJ called an end to their break.

Another deep breath.

“Shall we resume the most frustrating scene ever, then?” she asked Adam.

He shuffled his feet and gazed out to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. “Very true. I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Ehhh, it’s all me. You’re perfect as always, Adam.” She blushed and ran off, chiding herself for acting like a stupid school girl.

Despite her embarrassment, the break must have helped. Only a few takes later, Daisy found herself in the most comfortable staring contest with Adam. It was a moment that she wished she could have frozen forever.

Except that she shouldn’t have been thinking of Adam. She should have been thinking of Ben.

At the realization that she was letting her personal feelings bleed into her acting, she wrinkled her nose in frustration. “DAMN IT," she shouted. "I’m so sorry everyone! This next one is it, I swear.”

Adam reached over and placed his hand over hers. He gave her a small smile and she quietly cursed her heart. Its increasing pace threatened to give her secret away. “It’s okay," he said. "I feel it too. We’re almost there.”

Both of them were right, and JJ declared the last take as “THE ONE”. The room erupted with whooping and hollering. Everyone began circulating with hugs, thank-yous, and high fives. Daisy second-guessed going over to Adam, but knew it would be even more telling to avoid him.

When she reached him, she did her best to give a small hug. Adam, however, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in tighter.

“Well, it’s been great,” she started. “Thank you so much. It’s truly been an honor to work with you, Adam.” Her eyes started to well, knowing things between them would never be the same again. Hell, they hadn’t been this whole time.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” Adam’s words were barely louder than a whisper.

“For what?”

“You know. For everything. For making things weird between us. I, I never should have -"

“Never should have what?” she challenged. Should have let me fall in love with you? Treated me like I was yours? Let me believe we could ever be more than this great act of pretend? Those last thoughts rattled at the gate of her mouth, but remained hers to keep.

He glanced down, unable to handle her gaze that begged him for words he couldn’t say out loud.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about Adam. It’s been nothing but the best professional experience.”

He winced, and for a moment, Daisy almost felt guilty. But the anger and pain returned swiftly. She felt all too happy to have made him feel what she imagined to be only a small fraction of her own torment.

“To our amazing leads!” someone toasted a few feet over. “I’ve worked on a lot of movies, and it’s rare we get two incredible actors like you both. You made me believe I was watching a true relationship unfold, not just two really well-acted characters. To Daisy and Adam! To making us believe in the unreal.”

Everyone cheered in agreement around them and Daisy felt her heart rise up to her throat.

Exactly Dais. The unreal.

Suddenly, it was all too much to handle and Daisy could no longer stand to be around anyone. She gave them all a quick glance, muttered thanks and ran off. Once she returned to her dressing room, she turned her speakers back on. She started laughing through runny tears at the irony of Sigrid’s lyrics that filled the space.

When the curtain drops

Our touch is just a touch

Not like in the movies

Our story’s after the end

Like strangers

Perfect pretenders

We’re falling head over heels

For something that ain’t real

It could never be us, eh

Just you and I

Chapter 2 - Mine Right Now

Two Years Earlier

“Amazing work, both of you! Now go do something fun. Relaxing. Happy. Today’s scene was so emotionally taxing. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for any dark spiraling that follows today.”

“Oh, it's really alright. I take full responsibility for my own dark spiraling, Rian,” Adam joked.

“Well true as that may be, I am serious. You've both earned a night of not thinking about work. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Rian gave them both a quick hug before leaving them to finish gathering their things.

Daisy cleared her throat before she could back out. “So, what do you say, Driver? How about a little drinky poo?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her co-star suggestively before bursting into laughter.

“Sure. As long as you promise not to judge me for ordering a cocktail.”

Praying that her face wasn’t showing her utter shock, she continued to push her luck. “You’re kidding! You never go out! With the crew. With me. Mysterious Adam Driver slums it with Daisy Ridley? What would the missus think?!”

“Dais…” She watched as he ran his hands through his hair, certain that she had crossed a line.

“Sorry. So sorry. Uncalled for.”

“I just don't like to talk about Joa-, my wife a lot.”

Of course, he didn't. Not with coworkers at least. She was kidding herself to think they were anything more than that. Trying to salvage the situation, she asked, “Too late to throw in my white flag?”

He stared at her longer than he ever had outside of filming. “Not at all. But let's head out before it gets too late. I've got an early training session tomorrow.”

Relieved that she hadn't completely blown it, she felt her heartbeat pick back up. This was really about to happen. She was going to be alone with Adam and, by orders from the boss man himself - prohibited from talking about work. “Right, of course. I'll meet you outside in five?”

He gave her a small nod before turning to leave her to her things.

Her bag was already packed, but she used the next five minutes to compose herself. Tonight would be uncharted territory. Her relationship with Adam had grown into a fond friendship over the last two years. And so had her attraction to him. She rationalized it to herself as the intimacy of a truly trusting professional relationship. After all, they had to trust each other with abandon to pull off the demands of stunts and emotional scene work. Still, somewhere deep down she knew that for her, this was more than just trusting a coworker or friend. On the other hand, she could happily say that she wasn't the only one guilty of flirting now and again.

When she met him outside, he led her to his car. She was tired beyond her wits and grateful to have him drive.

“Where to?” He asked. “The Bridge Bar?”

“No. That's where the crew always goes.”

“Don't wanna be seen with the big bad villain, huh?”

“Yes. I mean, no!” Words escaped her as she tried to explain herself. “All I mean is that...I agree with Rian. Today was a lot. And I'd rather not have to socialize with anyone at the moment.”

“Oh. I can drive you back to the hotel, then. I just thought...since you had asked...that -”

“I'm trying to say I just want to be alone with you!” she blurted.

“Oh.” Her frustration built at Adam's sudden lack of articulation and her blatant confession.

“God. That sounded creepy as hell. Please, can we forget I ever opened my mouth? Just take me to get a drink somewhere, Adam. Anywhere but the Bridge Bar. Please.”

His eyes met hers for only a moment before he drove off with a quick nod.

The drive couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. Yet somehow, it was both the longest and shortest stretch of time. Adam, apparently still shell shocked by his pushy costar, hadn't said anything to her. Well, except to point out a few key places of local history. Fear brewed in her stomach as she resigned herself to the fact that he would probably call his agent after this. He would make his agent promise that he'd never have to work with someone as unprofessional as her again.

The silence was good for one thing, though. She figured her career and their relationship, working or otherwise, were both soon to be over. So she used the time to check him out free of shame. She focused first on his hands. The way his fingers tapped like a pianist against the steering wheel at every stop. It made her wonder how they would feel tapping against her skin. His legs were still too large for the space, despite his seat being pulled back to the furthest setting. In fact, if she were to straddle him right now, she'd likely slide right down his thighs. It'd bring her right where she wanted to be, pressed up against his hardness. She pictured the intimacy of that position, how his face would be easily within her reach. How she could run her hands into his hair and bite down into his full lips. She'd be able to watch him lift an eyebrow at her, just like he was doing now.

Oh shit, like he was doing now. He had definitely caught her fantasizing about him.

He looked thoroughly amused. “Everything alright?”

“Course.” She refused to accept defeat and wrinkled her nose in defense. “Now stop staring at me like... THAT and let's go!”

An hour later, she was on her third pint and Adam was still nursing his first cocktail. She looked from his face to his glass and back.

“You make me feel like an alchy!”

He let a low chuckle. “I told you, I've got training early tomorrow. If I go any heavier than this, I'm going to regret it. Just trying to be responsible.”

“How about this right now? Coming out with me. Is it part of your plan to be responsible?” Oh...so aggressively-honest, drunk Daisy was here to play.

A small shake of his head. “ Honestly? Still haven't decided.”

“Is that why you never hang out with me?”

“No. You've just never invited me before.”

“That's not true!”

“In groups, yes... But you know me. I don't do…people. Large groups, anyways,” Adam shrugged.

“Does that mean if I had asked you and it was only us, you would've said yes?”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, I'm here tonight, aren't I?”

She poked him in the shoulder and elicited a small OWW. “I'm honestly quite mad now. That's critical intel you've been keeping from me. We could've been besties by now!” she whined.

“Besties, huh?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“Ok. Then we’re besties. Anything you want.”

Before she could catch it, the small suggestion escaped in a rasp she didn’t know she had. “Anything?”

He gulped and met her eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just her giving in to years of repressed wants. She slowly got up from the table, still holding his gaze. She turned and started toward the back of the bar. The jury was still out on whether it was to leave the burn of his stare or to initiate something incredibly risky.

There wasn’t enough time to consider her motives when she felt her body go on high alert. The darkness of the hallway intensified all her other senses. She knew it was him even before his hand slid across her back to grip her waist. It was the way he walked so gently to avoid disturbing a space. The way he took slow calculated steps in consideration of everyone smaller than him.

Instead of turning her toward him, he closed their gap and brought his mouth down against her ear. She braced herself for the warmth of his lips but shivered as he spoke. “I’m a simple guy, Daisy. I don’t do games. I told you that you can have anything you want. And right now, I want to kiss you. Is that what you want?”

She turned around and tilted her head back to accommodate for how much bigger he was than her. The urge to wrap her hands around his neck was almost magnetic, but she fought it. It was possible that she might not survive the electricity of feeling his skin under her fingers. His hands slid down to hold her by her hips, apparently just as stubborn as she was to avoid making the first move. Hurried breaths reached her ears but she didn’t know which of them it was coming from.

She felt him studying her face and instinctively bit down on her lower lip. He seemed to acknowledge this movement as an agreement. Before she could brace herself, he said “Fuck it” and crashed against her mouth.

As soon as he felt her melt into the kiss, there was nothing tender about his attack. Her fingers laced into his hair, urging his tongue to press harder against hers. Adam lifted her up and slammed her back against the wall. At this angle, there was no doubt that he wanted this as badly as she did. She rolled her hips against his and the groan that escaped his mouth filled every hollow of her body.

It was more than she could have ever imagined. Tongues fought for dominance as they battled to memorize every curve and point of each other’s mouth. But it wasn’t enough. Now that she knew this need wasn’t one-sided, she was greedy and was going to take what she wanted.

“Bathroom,” she muttered against his lips. He understood immediately and walked them into the first door. Her bottom still sat against his forearms and legs wrapped around his waist. Once they entered, the lock of the door signaled more danger. The heat at her core grew.

She whimpered as he set her down, lamenting the loss of his body weight against hers. Her annoyance didn’t last long, though, as he flattened his palm between her legs.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“Already there,” she huffed out.

“Trust me, Dais.” He smothered her with another cardiac arrest-inducing kiss. “This is only the surface of how good you and I can feel together.”

With that, he invaded her leggings as his middle finger ran up and down her wetness.

“Oh god. Adam, I-I. Please don’t stop.”

He continued his slow teasing as she watched him swallow. “I told you. Anything you want. But not even the apocalypse could stop me from stroking you right now.”

She laughed at him. “Only you could make me feel this turned on and ready to burst with laughter at the same time.”

“Only actively trying at one of those right now,” he grunted. “But happy to help.”

Her smile quickly faded as her chin dropped and a moan broke free.

His finger ran its way up to her clit before sliding back down to push into her entrance.

He absorbed her moan with his mouth and flicked his tongue against hers. She imagined him repeating the motion where his finger was now working. She clenched but soon released. As close as she was to the edge, she wasn’t willing to let him off this easily.

She rubbed her hand against the hardness threatening to break the fly of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a small whimper. She slowly pulled back, reaching to bring her leggings down to her knees. She turned to bend over against the sink.

“Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

She watched as Adam moved toward her slowly, each second that she waited for him feeling like torture. His hand found her entrance again, now sliding in two fingers. He pumped into her slower this time, leaning over her smaller frame.

“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’m gonna fuck you here in this bathroom. I’ve thought about this for too long to end it with a quickie. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

She worked her hips against his hand for a bit longer before accepting defeat. Immediately, part of her worried that he was using this as an excuse to break off whatever this was. But another part considered what could happen within the walls of a hotel room.

The drive back felt like punishment. The only thing that stopped her from worrying was the fact that she felt the buzz of his need for her in the air. Every glance he threw her way was full of hunger. She thanked all her lucky stars that he had only had one drink. Having to walk back to the hotel would’ve taken even longer and would’ve surely put a stop to this.

Once they got to the hotel, they navigated the lobby and hallway with caution. They both knew to keep their distance. Without discussion, she led him to her room, making out with him as soon as his tall frame was through the threshold.

Hands on his belt, she inched backward toward her bed. Suddenly, she felt Adam pull back.

His hands ran through his hair, a sure tell of his discomfort.

“We shouldn't be doing this. I've been so good at trying to keep things professional between us. From the very first table read, I saw you and knew I had to be careful. It helped to remind myself that this was your first big film. But this second film has been different. So much more comfortable. Like we’ve known each other forever. I find myself constantly wanting to be around you. Telling myself that you’ve got no reason outside of work to spend time with me is a daily routine. But then you invited me out and I got high on the thought that someone like you might want me, too. But I let it get too far. This was a mistake. I should go.”

She couldn’t believe the audacity he had to tell her those things. Her face flushed, no longer from being turned on, but instead from anger.

“Well fuck you, Adam. You're a FUCKING COWARD!”

He matched the disgust in her voice. “I'm fucking married, Daisy.”

“Oh, I'm well aware. Every day that I pretend it's only my character that's pulled toward you? I remind myself you're married. On the days we don't work together and I sit wishing you were there with me? I remind myself you're married. It might as well be tattooed on my bloody tongue considering how many times I have to tell myself. So don't pretend you're doing me a favor by telling me something that does absolutely nothing to stop me from wanting you !”

She panted with exasperation.

“It should.”

“Well, it doesn't. I’m not asking for forever, Adam. I’m just asking you to be mine right now. I know how this plays out. I always have. And spoiler alert, in no version of our story does it end with you and I walking hand in hand through a hardware store, picking out wallpaper for our future child's room. It does, however, always end with me in England and you going back to HER,” she spat out. “So either hand me that bottle of tequila so I can forget this ever happened or be a man and finish what you fucking started. ”

The hunger was back in his eyes as they dared each other to blink first.

“I'm going to hell for this,” he said through gritted teeth, taking a step toward her.

“I'll see you there,” she smirked.

Clothes flew off in a race as they stumbled onto the bed. She laid back and gasped when she saw how big he was.

Adam worked to cover her entire body with kisses that she was convinced would leave marks. “I have to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” he asked absently, lightly grazing her nipple with his teeth.

She struggled to focus, her desire battling with any coherent thoughts.

“I have a, a condition” she breathed out between moans.

“Ok,” he acknowledged, moving on to treat her second nipple to the same attention.

“It-it makes it painful for me to take anything...anyone...too...OH MY GOD. Too deep.” He blew against her nipple as she tried to finish. “And... I think ...you would get very deep.”

A smirk stretched across his face. “Then you let me know if it’s too much.” His fingers found her folds again, dripping with her need to feel him. “How should I take you?”

“Any way you want,” she breathed out. “I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

Adam began to look around and she realized what he was looking for.

“Oh. And I, uh, have an IUD because of the condition. It’s actually easier for me to take you if you don’t wear a condom.”

He growled, then grabbed his length in his hand and began rubbing himself against her opening. She could feel her need coating him. She lifted her hips and he accepted her offer with a slow thrust into her center. He filled her like no one had before, except maybe a toy her sister had gifted her as a gag gift.

“Daisy…” he moaned, his solid biceps holding himself up to keep from penetrating her too deeply.

He stayed there just like that for a while, wrapped by her and taking short breaths. Knowing that he was probably nervous to hurt her sent a pang to her heart.

“I. You. You feel so good. You can give me more,” she pleaded. “Not deeper, just, it feels so good when you slide in me.”

Still balancing his weight over her body, he began to fuck into her faster. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rubbed my cock wishing it were you around me,” he said.

She squeezed in response. He responded by pulling out and sliding back in agonizingly slow.

Her patience had left her from the moment he touched her in the bar hallway. She began to move her hips in a figure-eight motion, urging him to leave his mark in every part of her. He took her hint and picked up his tempo, being happily rewarded with her repetitive moaning of his name.

Adam stared at her, his gaze unwavering. He had a unique way of making her feel nothing and everything all at once. It was a feeling she could get used to, even feel possessive over. And with that thought, she cursed herself for confusing this for something more. She zoned back into reality and pushed against his shoulder while using her hips to flip him over. He groaned in delight at the position change and she ground into his hardness. Anxious to rid the moment of any sentiment, she began bouncing up and down along his length. He ran his hand up her thigh and over her hip. He continued to move inward until his thumb found her clit, palm still resting flat against her stomach. God, the size of this man was enough to make her come.

Feeling her pick up speed, he urged her on. “Come for me, Daisy. Let yourself go on this hard cock. You love how hard I am for you, don’t you?” He continued rubbing soft circles into her clit. Matched with his words, it was enough for her to cry out his name.

She unraveled onto his chest just as she felt him grunt and fill her. Waves of satisfaction continued to pass as they laid together. He cradled her against him as they waited for their breaths to slow.

He slowly lifted her off of him and turned her to face him. He kissed her softly and lay his head back against the pillow. His eyes seemed to search hers for answers on how to handle this transition back into reality. Not having a clue, she chose the easy way out and turned her back to him to lay on her side. Adam took it as an invitation for another level of intimacy. Her whole body tensed and released as she felt him lay tiny kisses behind her ear. He worked downwards, finally settling his chin into the crook of her neck. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.

She sighed, knowing what she needed to do. “3, 2, 1. Okay. Here goes. I’m about to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“No, you just finished doing the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life like...two minutes ago.”

“Wow. What a terribly awful innuendo that was.”

“But not untrue?” he teased.

“I’m serious. Adam, as much as it pains me to say this. I think you should go. This was truly...unbelievable. Like, really, really, good. But like I said, I don't expect anything else from this. From you. But if you stay the night...I just might get confused.”

“No.”

“No? Not really up for debate. Go.” She used all her strength to push the giant out of her bed.

He stood but didn’t make any movement to get ready. “I won’t.”

She threw on her sternest face and blinked slowly. “I’m saying you have to.”

Undeterred by her insistence, he stroked her cheek with his thumb and settled it against her lips. “Shh, you’re mine right now.”

That was enough to make her give up her fight and pull his face down to hers. They resumed their earlier position as he turned her onto her side. His body spooned hers protectively and he planted a gentle kiss against her shoulder. It seemed to be his new favorite spot. Her stomach dropped and filled with fear and guilt. She closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would come soon - knowing it was too late to avoid the crash and burn.

Chapter 3 - Don’t Feel Like Crying

Daisy’s alarm went off on her phone as she dragged the starched hotel pillow over her head.

“Shut up, you!”

She fumbled to find the source of her disturbance and squeezed until the ringing stopped. It was still dark out and she didn’t know who she had pissed off to be called in at such a god-awful hour.

She was being dramatic.

In actuality, she knew she hadn’t angered anyone. Strange hours were a well-known consequence of her chosen profession. But she also knew her internal body clock wasn't wired for this.

Over the past month, Daisy hadn’t spent more than three nights in a single bed. As she glanced in the mirror, she could see it was beginning to take a toll on her. She adored the world of professional acting - but, the press and promos? Not so much. I’ll be looking 40 before I even turn 30, she thought, reaching for her eye cream.

She moved like a zombie through her hotel room, choosing vegan snacks and a tea tumbler in place of brains. Today was going to be another long stretch, but in a few more days, it would all be over.

Over. What a strange concept that was. She allowed herself to think back to the very first press tour for The Force Awakens. It was all so new and exciting back then. It had been nerve-wracking of course, but there was also something so special about that time. Her heart twinged as she remembered that year with fondness. In spite of the whirlwind of interviews, red carpets, and photoshoots, she had formed new bonds. It was a time of getting to know her castmates, crew members, hair and makeup artists.

And him, her ugly conscience reminded her.

Right. Him.

He had slightly more experience than her when it came to the press, but that didn’t make him hate it any less. Like her, he had never done anything on so large a scale. The pressure to be someone that both kids and adults could relate to was a different kind of terrifying. Naturally, they had latched onto one another. Her delightful inexperience with the industry offset his social unease and aloof tendencies. They would find ways to make each other laugh after answering the same question for the tenth time that day. Late nights were spent walking through foreign cities in disguises. Forced together by a job, they had become close friends.

And then there was the filming of The Last Jedi. Friends soon grew into something more. There was a closeness between them, the kind one would find between childhood mates. A sense of protection and duty to the other. Yet, too fused with desire to call it platonic. There was no proper label for what they were. Not when there was a stifling awareness of their complex situation. After that first night together, they had spent a few more weeks in a bubble of their own. It wasn’t all smiles, but it was all theirs.

Still, she wasn’t wrong when she had told him, “In no version of our story does it end with you and I…”

They had both seen the ending from the start. He had tried to pull away before it even began. She had tried to protect her heart by keeping it fun. In the end, none of that did anything to lessen the pain.

“Daisy,” he whispered over the phone. She could tell he had been drinking. The sun was beginning to wake London which meant it was the middle of the night in New York.

“Joanne’s pregnant,” he forced out.

Any other time, she would have made a smartass comment about his voice cracking. But now, no words rose.

She heard him take a few more breaths as if he was going to say more. When she continued to sit there in silence, he began again.

“I know we were supposed to meet up but –“

It was too much. Daisy hung up the call and threw her phone onto the mattress, watching it bounce onto the floor. Her body shook violently as tears spilled out. A buzz against the hardwood signaled another incoming call. She didn’t need to look to see who it was.

“FUCKING HELL!” she screamed into the empty apartment. Unintelligible cries came out in waves, sounding more hoarse and strained as they went on.

Minutes, then hours passed until she finally went numb.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?” Somehow, Daisy had made it from her hotel room into the elevator, whose doors now opened to the lobby. She wondered how long she had been stuck here in her memories.

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry to hold you up.”

She left the elevator and threw on a smile. This is your dream, Daisy. Remember? The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters.

The day had been a blur of photoshoots, interviews, and trials for tomorrow’s premiere look. In theory, she should’ve been very tired by now. Yet, she lay on top of her covers nursing nervous energy. What did she have to be nervous about?

Besides everyone hating the movie that you’re at the center of? she thought.

It seemed her old friend, anxiety, was right on schedule.

She considered heading to the gym. Maybe she could work off the negative energy. But this was Los Angeles, not London. She was sure to be mobbed, disguise or not. Her phone vibrated on the side table and she reluctantly stole a glance.

Joanne will be with me tomorrow at the premiere. Looking forward to seeing you. - A

The nausea and shortness of breath that followed confirmed a fear. She was, in fact, nervous about more than just the reception of the film.

---

“Come, everyone! I need more selfies to remember you all by!”

It was a fact that no one could ever deny Joonas his selfies. There were kind people in the world, good people, even - and then there was Joonas. Daisy paused mid-conversation with John to squeeze in for the photo. Adam turned around from his discussion as well and offered her a small smile. Her stomach felt like it was filling with helium until she shook her head and body into submission. She responded with a small “hello” before turning her gaze to Joonas’ phone.

Joonas studied the photo with pleasure and brought his friends in for a quick hug. He asked them what they had been up to since they last saw one another. Their answers went unheard when his manager came to steal him away. John's agent soon followed and he checked in with Daisy with his eyes. "I'll see you in a bit, Peanut?" She feigned contentment and gave a small nod.

The unease washed over her again when Daisy was finally alone with Adam.

He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, Dais.”

“That’s very kind, thank you. You look quite handsome as well.”

Pleasantries continued and she hardly recognized the words she was hearing. She and Adam despised small talk. This wasn't them. But then again, "them" was a long-forgotten memory.

At the realization, Daisy sighed and dropped her guard. Her eyes darkened. “Why did you text me, Adam?”

“Oh. I wasn't sure if you had received it.”

“Why,” she repeated, losing her patience.

“I don’t know. I thought you should know. That you might...want to know?” He was starting to gesture his hands wildly and she knew she had caught him off guard. “I...after the way we left off at the end of filming...I thought you might want to...prepare yourself? But that was presumptuous of me, I’m sorry. You’re clearly okay. Very okay. ”

When she didn’t respond, Adam scratched the back of his neck. “So uh, I got a chance to see bits of interviews you’ve done. You didn’t have to say all those nice things, you know. Especially after everything that happened.”

“Why not? There’s no point in lying. Also, it’s strange,” she paused. “Cause you see, whenever I’m in an interview and someone asks me something, and I go oh! There was that one time that Adam and I - And at first I would think, God, you can’t share that, Dais! You’ll look like a lovesick puppy. All the headlines will read, Daisy Ridley, a Fool for Her Co-star? But then I decided that I didn't care. That as long as I had all these memories, really fun and dear ones - it meant that it was real.”

“Of course it was real.”

She led him into a smaller hallway. This conversation was never part of the plan, but she knew that any news of it could hurt both her and Adam in a way that would be unsalvageable.

“How can you be so sure? You’re the one who walked away.”

“That’s not fair. You never gave me a chance to figure it out.”

“Bloody hell, Adam. There was nothing to figure out. When you called me to tell me you were going to be a father, you’d already made your choice. You only called because, in some sick, twisted way, you were hoping for my permission. You needed me to tell you it was okay.”

“No, I needed you to know how complicated it was.”

She took a deep breath and turned to face the wall. “The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters,” she whispered.

"What was that?"

She turned back, ignoring him and taking in his contorted expression. She straightened her spine and began. “I promised myself I was past this. So yes. It WAS complicated. But now - it’s not. There has to be something there for things to be complicated.”

“It’s still complicated for me,” he bit out.

“Please...just stop. Look, you were right. Just like always, you’re right. Between seeing you here and being sent everywhere to perform a dog and pony show, I’m not okay. Not even close. But being out here doing all this right now? The promotion and press - it's somehow the only thing helping me keep it together. As long as I’m busy, I don’t feel like crying."

He continued to stare at her but didn't venture a response. It seemed he no longer wished to argue, just listen.

She went on. "Don’t get me wrong. I understand how stupid I sound, whining about all of it. I understand the immense luck I’ve had that I get to do this for a living. You taught me that. But...I think I just need to be home for a bit. Need to lock myself up for a while. Sure, I’ll keep grinding it out and praying that someone sees me beyond this...circus. Get employed and all. But I just need a break.”

His eyes hadn’t left hers, so she broke the contact and spoke at her hands which she'd been wringing unknowingly.

“So please, let me go out there and do the old song and dance. Hug my friends, say goodbye to the role. Then I’ll go home to London and we'll never have to see each other again.”

“You can’t know that," his voice emerged, shaken by the finality of her statement.

She smiled gently and raised her eyes once more. “But I do. Everyone does. You and I no longer run in the same circles. You are...a force of nature, Adam. Like the ocean. You're reckless. Dangerous. But so damn beautiful to watch. Leaving a mark on everything you touch simply by being yourself. Me though, I'm just a rock that got swept up in your tide. Inevitably and forever changed by you, but unable to leave any impressions in return.”

She felt the heat forming behind her eyes and turned to leave before small droplets betrayed her. He grabbed for her hand but she pulled away in time. "Don't go," he whispered.

She turned with a final glance. "Thank you for everything, Adam. I don't regret a thing. But you don't get to decide things for me anymore."

Chapter 4 - Home to You

The sea air assaulted all her senses and she closed her eyes to let it wash over her. For the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe without struggle. Sure, the air was humid and rain was guaranteed to be waiting in the wings. But, it was freeing to be outside with absolutely no agenda.

She laughed.

That wasn't entirely true. She did have an agenda. But it was one all her own. This visit was all about leaving the bubble that her life has become, even if just for a few moments. It was about moving on. About liking herself again.

She had planned this trip a couple of months ago. She would have forgotten about it had her sisters not reminded her.

“Hush your beak, Dais,” Kika said. “You’re being absolutely ridiculous.”

“Am I?"

“Completely. You're not going to die a miserable, lonely, spinster.”

“I didn't say miserable and lonely!” She glared at her flesh and blood.

“Both of you. That's enough,” Poppy chimed in. “But Daisy, I do agree. Just because it sucks right now doesn't mean you're out of luck for the rest of your life. You made the right choice.”

“Breaking off an engagement. I'm the quintessential dumb millennial,” Daisy groaned.

“No, dumb would've been ignoring your true feelings. Your energy deserves to exist unbound. So do you.”

“But I don't feeeeeel unbound. I feel like some sort of gross hairball just stuck there waiting to be coughed out whenever the cat deems ready.”

Kika snorted and Poppy soon followed. Both her sisters unraveled into fits of giggles. After throwing a pillow at Kika's head, Daisy joined in.

The night had gone much like this. Tears, giggles, refill wine glasses. Repeat.

Daisy caught her breath from the laugh attack and sighed. “So what do I do now? Shut everyone out and vanish to a secluded place to find myself? ‘Eat Pray Love’ this out?”

“That's not a terrible idea,” said Poppy.

“I was only kidding. Mine isn't exactly a life you just walk out on without heavy speculation. Not even Joaquin Phoenix quit acting successfully.”

“Always the drama queen, Dais,” Kika muttered with a roll of her eyes. “But maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a vacation. Just a small one. Go. Grab your laptop. Let's find you someplace nice.”

Where to go? Where to go? she thought to herself. Her sisters chimed in with suggestions but she insisted on making the choice herself.

In a fog of restlessness, hurt, and nostalgia, she clicked away to her heart’s content. Thirty minutes later, she shut the lid. “Done,” she smiled, feeling victorious.

After reading the confirmation email the next morning, she considered canceling it. Choosing to travel there was a bad idea. Her finger hovered over the button as she thought about it more. There was a possibility that this could be the closure she needed to begin the next chapter of her life.

“Good morning!” a man called out. Daisy snapped out of her daydream and greeted the man she assumed was her driver.

“We're heading to Dingle, correct?”

An inhale. Then an exhale. It's too late to back out now, she told herself. “Yes. Thank you so much,” she answered with a smile.

---

A week and a half had passed since she had arrived in Ireland. She sat with her morning tea and sipped it, taking in how at peace she felt. She felt like the old Daisy, again. Or maybe a new one. It was hard to tell. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so present in a moment.

Her stay hadn’t been all magical. The prior week was a different picture in all respects. Like torrential rains, Daisy was never at balance. One second, she felt euphoria from being in one of her favorite places. The next, only bittersweet flashbacks of memories to a time spent with someone who wasn't hers.

Phone in hand, she stared at the photo of the cliffside she had snapped on her drive the day before. It was nondescript enough - and she wasn't in it. But he would know where it was.

She only had a few days left before going home and she had been toying with the idea of reaching out to him for closure. During a sob-filled emergency phone session, her therapist had assured her it wasn’t necessary. But Daisy wanted to. Was determined to. Where better than from here, the place they had first fallen into this mess? She wanted to rewrite the narrative and make new memories in this place. She wanted to return home without burden.

Saw this view and couldn't help thinking of you. She deleted the words and tried again. While it was true, she had to establish boundaries. She didn't want him to think she was opening up the door to anything unhealthy. This was about making peace with the past and trying to relearn a friendship with him.

Recognize this? she typed. “That seems harmless enough,” she told herself.

“1, 2, 3, SEND!” Her finger froze. She got up and walked onto the balcony. She hoped some fresh air would give her the nerve. She repeated the countdown again. “You’ve got this, Dais!”

She couldn’t do it. She jumped up and down, shaking her limbs to pump herself up.

“OH SHIT,” she exclaimed as her phone slipped from her fingers. She caught it with a pincer grasp and made a mental note to thank her trainer for her quick reflexes. She kissed her phone in relief.

Then she saw it.

Her clumsiness had done it for her. She had sent the text.

“Well. That’s that, then.” Daisy tucked her phone back into her pocket knowing there was nothing she could do now.

After dinner, she drew herself a bath and poured a glass of wine. Her phone buzzed. She had forgotten to turn off the ringer.

“AGH. Who’s bothering me?” She reached to turn it off but stopped when she saw the notification. Adam had responded. Throughout the course of the day, she had forgotten about her text to him. Or her subconscious was working overtime to protect her if he didn’t text back.

How could I forget? I embarrassed myself soon after with shitty poetry recitation.

Though alone, she blushed. She had taken the photo because the view was breathtaking and so uniquely Dingle. She hadn’t sent it with the intention of reliving that afternoon. But now she couldn’t think of anything but. And the fact that Adam had brought it up sent a pulse straight to her core.

She closed her eyes and slid her hand downward. What started out that day years ago as an innocent request evolved at high speed.

They sat in the rental car staring out at Dunquin Harbor. He had just returned from Cannes to promote Paterson.

“What was filming that like? Quite different than this, I gather?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Different type of film. Very little dialogue -”

“Wait, so actually very similar!”

Adam chuckled. “Paterson was very much a listener and a man of few words. Verbally, at least. His poetry is where the audience learns who he is.”

“Right! Tell me more about poetry!”

He rolled his lips inward. “Uh, what about it? I didn’t really know much going in, but meeting Ron Padgett, the poet who wrote the original poetry in the film was great. And Jim Jarmusch actually studied it in college. So yeah, definitely new for me.”

“So you spent some time studying some of this Ron guy’s work before you went into filming?”

“Among others. But, yes. It was helpful.”

“Can I hear some of it?”

“Yeah...let’s not,” he shied away.

She pulled out her phone and typed in “Ron Padgett poems” as he tried to change the subject. He called attention back to the landscape in front of them. She clicked through on a link and extended her phone to him.

“Here. Read it to me.”

He pulled a face.

“Please? It’s like a table read. But just for me.” She smiled and his mouth mirrored hers.

He squeezed her forearm affectionately before agreeing. “Only a little.”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” she smirked, feeling quite pleased with herself.

“How to Be Perfect. By Ron Padgett."

“Get some sleep.” His thumb began stroking her forearm.

“Don't give advice.” He grazed his fingertips up her arm to draw circles around her shoulder.

“Take care of your teeth." A small kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“And gums.” Another to the opposite corner.

“Don't be afraid of anything,” his mouth met her temple.

“Beyond your control.”

“Don't be afraid.” A gentle stroke of her hair.

“For instance,”

“That the building,” he traced the line of her clavicle.

“Will collapse.” His fingers teased the sensitive skin of her neck.

“As you sleep.” A kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Or that someone - ” A quick bite of her lobe.

“You love,” he kissed her mouth tenderly.

“Will suddenly drop dead.” A small smile pulled at his mouth.

He took his hand and ran it down her body, stopping where her legs met.

“Eat an orange every morning.” He lifted her dress.

“Be friendly.” He teased her now with his index and middle finger in a V, rubbing soft strokes against the outer edge of her desire.

“It will help make you happy.” He brushed his hand across her clit and her breath caught in her throat.

“Raise your pulse rate.” Another brush.

“To 120 beats per minute.” Then pressure.

“For 20 straight minutes.” He rubbed up and down slowly.

“Four or five times a week - ” She raised her hips to grind against him faster. He laughed and removed his hand.

“Doing anything - ” She whined.

“You enjoy.” He returned his hand.

“Hope,” a finger pushed into her.

“for everything.” A deeper exploration of her.

“Expect nothing.” He withdrew himself.

He dropped the phone and took her face in his hands. He took her mouth like a man drinking his last sip of water before heading out into the scorching desert. His hand slid back down her torso, reading her need for release.

She put her phone down and let her own fingers roam downwards. She sighed as she softly teased herself, trying to mimic the light touches he had used. Ok, so closure may be harder than anticipated , she thought. Resigning to try again tomorrow, she put the phone down to focus on her pleasure. A reply could wait until then.

---

When she gathered the courage to respond to him the next day, she was filled with relief. Their exchange was easy and amicable. The familiarity comforted her like a childhood blanket.

She continued to update him about her trip. He laughed at the right moments and chided her the way any good friend would.

I don’t want to leave 😢, she typed to him.

Where are you headed next?

Home. I fly into Heathrow tomorrow. I’m not ready to be a proper adult again.

Ehh, I don’t think there’s such a thing. We’re all just faking it.

Thanks, friend. Any suggestions for my last night here in good ol Dingle?

A huge bacon cheeseburger.

You suck.

She laughed at his teasing. This was good. A healthy good. She wasn't even upset that she had to pack the mess that had accumulated over her stay.

---

Daisy walked off the plane and blinked in succession. There was Adam, attempting to look inconspicuous in a hoodie and sneakers.

“Oh. Hey, Adam. Are you...stalking me?”

“Kind of. I asked Kika for your flight information.”

Her phone started ringing. “Oh. This is awkward, but I've got a driver waiting to pick me up. It’s really nice to see you? But I have to go.”

He laughed nervously. “I...was kind of hoping you would let me go with you. I've got no other way of getting back.”

“Uh. Sure. Why not?”

---

An hour later, she thanked the driver and headed up to her apartment. Adam trailed behind with her bags. She unlocked the door to her apartment and gestured for him to enter.

“So, what brings you to London?” she began.

“I’m actually in France for the next month filming for a Ridley Scott movie.”

"Heh." An awkward laugh. “I knew that. I don’t know why I asked. I just didn’t wanna sound like a stalker. Then again, you showed up waiting outside my plane so I guess we’re both creepers now.”

He smiled. She melted.

“So...I’m not gonna lie...when I got your text - ”

“You know what?” she interrupted. “Hold that thought. This is kind of rude of me to cut you off. You’re a guest in my home and all. But I really need to do something first. And it’s going to be very awkward but just bear with me through it. Okay? Please?”

“I’m the one who intruded on your day so please, go ahead.”

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. Be strong, Dais, she reminded herself.

“When I was in Ireland, I wrote you a letter.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going to be a lot, but I don’t know that I’ll have the balls to read this again. And right now, for some godforsaken reason, I feel like I can do it.”

“You don’t have to if you don't want to.”

“No, I’m going to.”

“Okay. Should I...turn around?” he suggested.

“No no. Just go ahead and sit down.”

Adam looked down, shifting his gaze from one edge of the chair to the other. He was already seated but was too polite to note that. “I will sit.”

Daisy walked over to her handbag and pulled out a paper folded into quarters. She hoped he didn’t notice how worn it looked. Proof that she had fumbled with it more times than necessary. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She offered him a silent thanks for that.

“Actually, I think I’ll turn around,” she muttered.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Adam said.

Her pulse was racing. “Here goes."

"Dear Adam,

I’d be lying if I said I’m not heartbroken right now. I know the last time we spoke, I told you I was past it, but we both know that was just me trying to put some distance between us. I’m gutted even thinking about the way you asked me to stay. It makes me want to cry all over again (which I’ve been doing a lot of over here).

It’s been REALLY hard to make all my feelings go away, which is the reason I’m writing you this letter. I’m desperate to do something, anything, to get proper closure and move on.

Saying goodbye to you feels like saying goodbye to a part of myself. That’s silly, though. What’s that saying? You can’t lose something that was never yours? Trying to let you go feels like trying to quit an addiction. Which I guess makes Dingle my rehab center (a really lovely one though).

Looking back at everything with 2020 vision (haha, get it? 2020?) - I was fucked from the start. Meeting you was completely life-altering in a way baby Dais could have never expected. You were so REAL in a blur of superficiality. Latching onto you felt like a way of holding onto reality. A tether to the tangible when everything and everyone else wanted to turn me into someone I wasn't ready to be.

And I think you felt that too, in a way. Which is how we fell so easily into friendship. I truly do think that what we had started off innocently, and I’m grateful you were there for it all.

But I’m also SO angry with you. I fell in love with you. And you let me. And for that - I want to scream at everyone and everything. IT'S SHIT. I know it’s not fair to place all the blame on you. But I was in my early 20s and the less experienced of us. I misplaced our mutual understanding onto something more. But as someone with a wife, you should’ve fought harder to push me away. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you insult me until I hated you? Why did you say nice things to me in private and let me play make-believe?

My feelings for you were so obvious that anyone could have seen them from a mile away. I suspect most did. I was so hopeful that if I was patient and attentive, you might drop everything for me with a grand gesture. But eventually, I learned that that’s not who you are. I know you’ve struggled with many relationships in the past, both romantic and otherwise. Frankly, I think part of you finds romantic feelings uncomfortable. I don’t say it to be cruel, but I simply care for you and think maybe someone needs to say it. I don’t like that I tried to change you - it wasn’t my place. It isn’t anyone’s.

But onto the positive. Cause that’s what all this is supposed to be about. Typical Dais, unable to stay on task.

Loving you, as painful as it was, also taught me so much about myself. Professionally, being around you made me a better performer. I was so set on being a worthy scene partner. Your instincts always pushed me to find authenticity in everything. Your humbled way of approaching the business is still unlike anyone else’s I've met. I’ll always try to maintain these things as I go forward.

As a...romantic partner? You made me feel seen. As I’ve tried to move on with others, I always felt I’ve had to hide parts of me. Yes, our situation...fuck, let’s call it what it was. Our affair - was based on hiding. But only because of its nature. Behind closed doors, you accepted me in my entirety. The goofiness, the grotesque parts, the darker ideations. I never had to hide these parts with you. So in a way, loving you, then losing you, taught me that it shouldn’t have to feel controlled with the right person. I shouldn’t have to be a budget version of myself to be loved.

If these are truly the last words I say to you (even if not in actuality. Cause I’m a melt and may not even send this). Just a few thoughts. I am so proud of you. The awards and Ben Solo campaign are proof that the world finally sees what I’ve always known. You are a once in a lifetime type of human. I know you hate it - the recognition, but you deserve it. And so much more. I truly hope you’re happy. I know I’m trying to be.

All my love, Daisy”

When she mustered up the strength to turn around, she didn’t know if she was seeing straight. Through her watery eyes, it looked like Adam was crying, too.

“Daisy,” was all he said. He got up and walked toward her, taking her into his arms. Silent tears fell between them, darkening their clothing.

“I can’t lie. When you first texted me, I was shocked. I didn’t think I’d see your name in my phone for...Well, I didn’t know that I’d see it again.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Can I tell you something? It's actually why I came to see you.” He asked.

“Sure.” Her head was still pressed against his chest.

“I don’t expect you to say anything in response, but...Joanne and I separated. My PR will be announcing it in the next couple of months now that award season is over.”

“Oh,” was all that she could say.

“Yeah.”

“I called off the engagement. To Tom. He understood that my heart was never fully in it.”

“He did?”

“Alright, maybe not right away. But yes. He's all moved out. I think we might be able to be friends again, eventually.”

Adam looked around at the apartment for the first time. “I honestly didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, just little old me again.”

The energy in the apartment shifted and Adam tilted her chin up. He kissed her gently at first as if to test the waters. When she opened her mouth to take more of him in, his attack became more fierce. She matched his kisses, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was a deadly cocktail of heartache, longing, and love.

She couldn’t get enough of him. The ache for him, both his heart and his growing hardness returned. It was like riding a bike. The solace of revealing every last feeling to him increased her desire. She no longer feared the ache of having him. Only the absence of his weight on her.

He carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on her stomach.

She felt him shimmy her pants down her ass. He laid soft kisses on each cheek before sliding his tongue up between them. Her whole body trembled as he explored every forbidden part of her.

“OH MY GOD,” she cried out.

Her encouragement was all he needed. He adjusted her knees so he could access her more easily. A small rub of her clit. A lapping of her juices. Then back to licking up into her from front to back. She had never had anyone taste her puckering hole before. She thought she might come right there. She reached back to pull at his hair and covered him with her release.

He flipped her onto her back and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. She had claimed him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever it was, she needed more of this feeling.

She reached out and grabbed his erection, guiding it into herself. It had been so long since she had felt him. She forgot how deep he could feel. She squeezed him in. Further. Then further. His hair fell on his face and she reached up to push it back.

She lifted herself onto her elbows and kissed him up and down his neck. This made him go crazy and he took her with even more force. She felt split in two. He grabbed her breasts as he held his rapid pace. He returned the favor and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

“ADAM. I’M COMING,” she announced.

She wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed him in one last time. “DAISY. FUUUCK.” He collapsed onto her, their sweat and tears now indistinguishable.

A moment later, she came back to her senses. “Goddamnit,” Daisy said, staring at the ceiling. “That was not supposed to happen.”

Adam rolled over. “Why does it matter? We’re both single now. We can be together.”

“We can’t,” she insisted. “We can't just start over when we, THIS, started from a place of lies and hiding.”

“Who the hell cares, Dais? Whose business is it but ours?”

“Even you know it's not that easy.”

He growled. “I know that none of that changes how I feel about you. People-pleasing is a game for those that lack understanding of their core selves.”

“Ugh. You sound so pretentious!!”

“Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little confused. We're both single and now we can't be together?? Was I only appealing to you when I was married? Help me understand this shit because I sure as hell can't.”

She got off the bed and began throwing his clothes at him. “The fact you would even suggest that is infuriating. You need to go. I've said my piece. That was all this was about. There's no reset button to any of this.”

Fully dressed, he stopped at her bedroom door. He looked ready to punch the wall. At the last moment, he opened his fist. It was almost as if he realized he had done enough damage for the day. Instead, his heavy hand slammed against the door frame.

He continued on and reached for the front doorknob. He looked back at her and she shuddered. She had seen him angry and frustrated, but had never been the one in his sights.

With a slam of the door, he left.

She began crying. So much for closure, she thought. Daisy searched for her phone and debated calling her mum or sisters. But then, a sudden cold sweat came on. She would have to admit what had happened. She dropped the phone. She wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

Sometime later, a knock at her door startled her from her stupor. She panicked. Security knew better than to let anyone up without her prior approval.

She heard a throat clear and then a thud. Much like a stray limb hitting the hard surface. “OW.”

The voice was unmistakable. She opened the door.

She looked at him and stared blankly. Her eyes seemed to ask, What are you doing here?

He extended a dark chocolate bar toward her.

“Hi. I'm Adam.”

“What?” She stared at him like tiny giraffes were dancing on his shoulders.

He shushed her and started again. “Hi, I'm Adam. It's great to meet you. At the risk of looking like an ass...can I take you out? I know we just met, but I have a good feeling about this.”

Finally understanding him, she smiled.

[thetriggeredhappy]

How about #18 for Speeding Bullet? Only if you want, of course!

hell yeah i want to, dude!!

(minor tw: canon-typical violence sort of stuff. nothing gratuitous, just worth mentioning. this is basically just pg-13)

18.) “That was kind of hot.”

The worst thing about the match being caught in a stalemate was the energy of it. Being trapped in that strange place between fighting and resting, between alertness and relative relaxation. The fact that it made the day drag on longer was no good, and the looming fear that any moment something would change and they would lose was also no fun, but really, the feeling of being a coiled spring just waiting for the action to start back up, weapons all reloaded and wounds all patched and healed, knowing the if but waiting on the when, it was awful.

Sniper in particular was fairly irritated about them, mostly because generally during stalemates, he would be tormented by the enemy Spy, who seemed to get bored extremely quickly. That left Sniper with an additional layer of tension going on, with the only real measure he could take to try and not get backstabbed a few dozen times in a row to be changing nests fairly frequently, which left him only a little less frazzled.

He’d only just sat down in the barn that made up the outskirts of the current battlefield when he got lucky enough to hear the telltale sound of a dispersing cloak and a knife flipping open.

No. Absolutely not. The bastard had killed him four times in the past twenty minutes. He would not get a fifth.

In the space of a moment he’d leapt to his feet, seized his knife and spun around with a snarl, a vicious swing going a long way to make the Spy reel backwards and to buy Sniper a moment to get bearings on where he was and where he might move next.

The Spy’s next move was to back up and glance for the nearest door or window, but no, he would not be getting away, not after being such a bastard. Sniper darted forward, feigning a swing at his kneecaps only to instead thrust upwards, knife sliding cleanly up into the Spy’s ribcage.

“Why don’t you go ahead and stay dead for a while?” Sniper snarled, and yanked the knife out, and kicked him to the ground.

Relative silence for the three seconds it took for the Spy to stop struggling on the ground. Full silence for the five seconds it took before Respawn pulled the corpse away.

“That was kind of hot,” chirped a voice from up above him, and Sniper nearly had a heart attack.

He glanced up, and there, looking down at him, lying in the rafters that supported the loft with a hand propping up his chin and a grin on his face, was Scout.

“How the hell’d you get there?” Sniper asked, trying to shake off his alarm.

“I’ve been up here, man. I was up here before you showed up and went all one-liner action hero. I was asleep.” Indeed there was a layer of laziness to the way Scout spoke and moved, usually reserved for shortly after the team woke up in the morning or for late, late at night.

Sniper exhaled, relaxing minutely, moving to wipe his knife off and pick back up his gun, glancing it over to see if it’d been damaged when he dropped it. “I’m not gonna ask why you were up napping in the rafters instead of out doing your job,” he said dryly.

“What job?” Scout scoffed. “It’s a stalemate.”

“There’s still bastards that need killin’. That means you’ve still got a job to do,” Sniper said firmly.

“Yeah, plenty’s guys around to fight,” Scout said sarcastically. He pulled his pistol from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at make-believe enemies. “Pew, pew. Really givin’ me a workout. Pew, pew-pew. C’mon Snipes, I need backup here against all the just, the waves of guys attackin’ us right now.”

“I get it,” Sniper said flatly.

“Just the crazy amount of dudes currently attackin’ is that I’m supposed to be stoppin’. Because you told me to do my job.”

“I get it, Scout.”

“Just the absolutely bonkers number of totally real people I’m totally in combat with right exactly now, this like, action hero movie’s worth of enemies. With like, me being the protagonist. Just that many guys.”

“Scout, I get it.”

“And you’re just like, sittin’ around lookin’ pretty while I’m doin’ all the work here. Shittiest love interest ever, in this, the movie where a bunch of guys attack us.”

Sniper shot Scout a glare, then went to start adjusting his scope.

“Hey, but y’know what’s weird, though?” Scout asked, voice perking up as he changed subjects abruptly.

“What?”

“How you always just like, glare at me or don’t respond when I say flirty stuff like that, instead’a tellin’ me to knock it off.”

Sniper turned his head to glare again, not speaking.

“I mean, sometimes you say stuff like “Oi, bugger, go away, I’m concentrating” or “Bloody hell, can this conversation wait, piss” or somethin’, but you never tell me to actually stop.” Scout tilted his head just to one side. “What’s that all about?”

“I don’t sound like that,” Sniper grumbled.

“See, even now when you’re all pissed off for some reason, you’re still not telling me to quit. You’re just changing the subject. I just thought that was kinda funny, y’know?”

“Hilarious,” Sniper drawled.

Scout sat up, and dropped down to hang from the rafter he’d been perched on, swinging once and dropping to the ground. For a brief moment Sniper was convinced he was about to watch Scout break both his legs, but Scout dropped into a roll and ended up back on his feet again, brushing hay from himself, otherwise unscathed.

And then he was walking up towards Sniper, crowding into his space. Sniper took a step back instinctively, and Scout took two forward. Sniper’s back collided with the wall, and then Scout was stood practically on his toes, looking up at him with that same curiosity, that same half-grin. Sniper’s pulse pounded in his ears.

“So what’s the deal, then?” Scout asked with a surprising amount of neutrality, eyes flickering to give him an up-and-down. “Is it that you’re… scared of me, or something? Is that it?”

“Of course not,” Sniper half-scoffed, glancing away, only to have his credibility instantly put into question as he jumped at the feeling of Scout fiddling with his vest’s zipper.

“Funny way of showin’ it,” Scout commented in turn.

“Look, this just isn’t something that…” Sniper managed to stamp down a shiver before it could roll through him at the feeling of Scout’s right hand moving from fiddling with his vest to instead slide to rest under it. “…That coworkers should do, particularly in our line of business.”

“What, you don’t trust me?” Scout pouted, nonetheless keeping his hand on Sniper’s waist, his left one moving to mess with the bullets Sniper kept stocked in his breast pocket.

“S’not that,” Sniper gritted out, looking away entirely to stare out over Scout’s shoulder, trying to ignore how nice all this contact felt. Admittedly, it wasn’t something that happened to him often outside the context of battle. “It’s just… not very professional.”

“So we keep this quiet,” Scout shrugged, tilting his head to try and goad Sniper into looking at him again. “I ain’t askin’ for some whole big thing, roses an’ chocolates an’ all that. Not unless you’re about that. I just wanted to… y’know, try somethin’ out. See if we’d work.”

“If we’d work?” Sniper echoed, eyebrows drawing together, still not quite able to meet Scout’s eyes.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m pretty bored, talkin’ with you is almost always pretty fun, and you’re just pretty. Figured we could work somethin’ out. But then you went an’ started playin’ some game where you didn’t give me a straight answer or anythin’ to go on even though it was pretty damn clear I was hitting on you.”

Sniper’s jaw tightened.

Scout’s subtle motions stopped for a second, presumably as Scout considered him. “Look, I’m not gonna like, force the issue, here. You tell me you don’t want nothin’ to do with this, I’ll leave you alone. Won’t even be mad, just like, a little disappointed. Because I’m serious. Cards on the table? I really wanna try this. But this definitely isn’t gonna work unless you show up voluntarily. So you tell me straight up, “Get away”, and I’ll walk away and I won’t ever bug you again like this. I’ll cut it out with the makin’ passes at you and we’ll both get outta here like none’a this ever happened. That’s all you’ve gotta say, is “Get away”. And I will.”

“Fine. Get—“ Sniper started, eyes locking on Scout’s again, only to pause.

Scout’s expression was something Sniper had never seen on him before. A bit serious, largely earnest. There was hope pretty clearly written across his features, and the whole pretense of smugness was gone. He wasn’t playing around, he was making a very honest, open offer.

Sniper’s breath caught in his throat. “Get…” he tried again, because he’d meant it, this wasn’t something coworkers should do. He was a professional, he had standards for himself, standards that pretty clearly meant not doing this sort of thing with any of his teammates. And besides that, Sniper really wasn’t in a position where he should be… dating, or whatever else Scout planned to propose. And he’d never even been any good at dating back in the past, and he wasn’t sure if he’d even enjoy it. But both of Scout’s hands had migrated to his waist beneath his vest, and stroked over his sides with a surprising and uncharacteristic gentleness. Like Scout was waiting for that second word. Like he was almost sure it was going to come, any moment, and Sniper’s voice caught.

Scout looked at him. He looked at Scout.

Then his eyes flicked up, and widened slightly.

In the space of a moment, he’d seized the pistol from Scout’s waistband, firing one, two three shots off towards the doorway. The first pinged off the wood, but the second two connected, one with an invisible chest, the other with an invisible forehead.

Scout half-turned, eyebrows raised, to regard the Spy that slumped to the ground just inside the barn, and the way it disappeared after a second. “Nice shot,” he commented, voice appraising. “How’d you catch that?”

“Saw the hay on the ground move,” Sniper replied, hands falling to tuck the pistol back where Scout put it, only to linger there for another few moments.

Scout hummed. Silence between them for a few seconds before Scout turned to look back at him again. He didn’t speak, just looked up at Sniper, displaying an amount of restraint just then.

Sniper finally let out a sigh, shoulders sagging, pulling Scout in a half-step closer. “Y’know what? To hell with it. Fine.”

Scout perked up immediately, lighting up like a firework show. “Really? You mean it?” he asked, his smile stretching across his face wide and unabashed.

“Yeah. Not like I’ve got any real reason to say no. You’re not so bad,” he managed to joke, his own face making a valiant attempt at a smile.

Scout laughed, and the pressure of his hands increased as he leaned into Sniper a bit, positively glowing. “Yeah. Not so bad.”

[lalainajanes]

kc + we promised to stay friends but we’re doing the same stuff we did when we were a couple and i don’t wanna point it out because i don’t want it to stop

Five seconds after walking into the courtyard, Carolinerealizes she’s miscalculated.

Super annoying because planning on being nearly late hasbeen making her anxious all freaking day.

It looks like her neighbors are all present and accountedfor, which she should haveanticipated. Last quarter’s tenants meeting had resulted in a screaming matchand Mrs. Bolton’s carefully frosted cupcakes being used as projectiles – such awaste of the fluffiest buttercream Caroline’s ever had the pleasure of tasting.Obviously, no one wants to miss this little shindig and the possibility of highdrama.

The folding chairs are all filled. Except one.

The one next to Klaus.

Damn it.

They’d shared the usual meaningless break up platitudes. Theones about how they really liked each other as people and should still stayfriends and blah blah blah. Caroline’s never been in quite this situation, atleast as an adult. She’d known falling for a neighbor was a gamble but Klaushad seemed like a risk she needed to take. Since they’d fizzled she’s beencarefully avoiding him.

If only Klaus would have the courtesy to follow her lead.

She’s held her breath and checked the peephole every timeshe’s left her apartment. A Klaus-free hallway means she can bolt for thestaircase. She’s gotten some odd looks from her neighbors on the instances heroutfits had required heels. She’s ignored them, slipped the shoes on in thelobby, because the last thing she needs is a broken ankle.

Knowing Klaus he’d take such an opportunity and run with it.She’d need help if she were injured, with groceries and laundry and gettingmeals together. He’d be charming and helpful, all in the name of beingneighborly. He’d make her laugh and she’d see him in her apartment again, lounging on her couch and messing with her knick knacks, and Caroline can’tallow that. Not until she’sover him.

Any day now.

Their friend groups are pretty solidly intertwined and sheknows he’s been asking about her. Caroline’s not entirely sure why, since he’d been the one to backoff.

She’d been super pissed two months ago. Now she’s justconfused. She doesn’t trust the Klaus-shields she’s got in place just yet,can’t risk him slithering passed.

Klaus smiles at her, lifts his hand in a cheery little wave.Tips his head in the direction of the single empty seat tucked cozily betweenhim and the wall.

He’s probably done the intimidating murder eyes thing he’s sogood at to save it.

Caroline pastes on a bright smile – because she’s so notwilling to let him win the breakup –and makes her way over to him. He stands to let her pass. “Hey, Klaus,” shegreets. She keeps it warm, casual. Hopes it sounds natural. She scans the roomto avoid looking at him, holds her breath. Meeting his eyes with his body soclose, smelling the cologne that used to linger on her sheets, is dangerous.

“Caroline,” hemurmurs. When he sits his thigh presses to hers and she hurriedly crosses herlegs to cut odd the contact. “It seems you’ve been busy lately. I haven’t seenyou in what, two weeks?”

Clearly, Klaus had missed the post-breakup etiquette day atadulting school. He’s not supposed to call her out like that.

Caroline manages to laugh, “Has it been that long? One of mycoworkers broke her leg so I’ve been covering for her.”

That’s a big fat lie and she crosses her fingers Klaus won’task a follow up question. Luckily, Alaric Saltzman stands calls the meeting toorder. He starts talking about the meeting’s agenda. Caroline holds in a huffof annoyance. He’s talking slowly, probably already a few drinks in, and that’sonly going to prolong her torment. She’dread the materials that had been circulated already but, having lived in this buildingfor three years now, she knows that few other people would have bothered toprepare.

She stiffens when she feels Klaus lean in, his breathruffling the curls that have come loose from her top knot. “Care to liven thismeeting up with a wager, love?”

Her eyes widen and she almost chokes. A few people glanceover and Caroline hopes she hasn’t turned visibly red. “That would be highlyinappropriate,” she hisses and oh god she sounds like one of the Mystic Fallschurch busybodies who’d sniffed about the unladylike length of Caroline’sskirts in high school.

A sound of amusement comes from Klaus and she resists theurge to dig a sharp elbow into his ribcage. Mostly because touching him is a terrible idea. “My, someone’s thinkingimpure thoughts.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” she mutters. They’d bet sexual favorslast time (and Caroline has very fondmemories or collecting her winnings).

“As delightful as such bets would be,” Klaus says, soundinglike he in no way objects to the concept, “I was thinking cash. Five dollarssays Damon Salvatore’s once again behind on his recycling dues.”

Does he think she’s an amateur? She’s lived here longer thanhe has. “Please. That’s a sucker’s bet. You’re going to have to do better.”

She catches a hint of a smile, distinctly triumphant, beforeKlaus sobers, his head tipping back like he’s thinking deeply.

His next proposal is far more reasonable. She counters withanother. She finds herself relaxing, biting her lip to keep from giggling atKlaus’ more pointed observations about their neighbors.

She walks out of the meeting with an extra seven dollars inher pocket wondering if maybe, just maybe, she can stop with the ninjaavoidance moves.

A few days later, Caroline’s staring blankly at the fourtrays of cookies cooling on her kitchen island. She’d had a moderately crappyday at work and when she’d stopped at the grocery store on the way home anendcap of chocolate chips had caught her eye.

Hence the stress baking. She’s done it on autopilot,doubling the recipe, and now she’s got 64 cookies to deal with.

She’ll take some to work but her office is small and two ofher coworkers have been on health kicks. She’ll get serious evil eyes if shebrings in more than a dozen. She’s gotten used to Klaus taking baked goods offher hands. The man has an impressive sweet tooth but doesn’t even own a cookiesheet and he’s never had any qualms with storing the leftovers in his freezerand whipping them out whenever his agent calls him in for a meeting.

Apparently, he’s significantly better liked by the variouseditors and admins at his publishing company now.

Maybe she could just pop over and see if he still wantsthem. Just because he’s not her boyfriend anymore doesn’t mean Caroline doesn’twish him success.

Mentally patting herself on the back for her emotionalmaturity, Caroline grabs a Tupperware container and loads it up.

And then she runs to her room to put on something cuter thanan old Whitmore hoodie and flour dusted leggings. She switches out her sportsbra for something with more lift but draws the line at makeup. She isn’t tryingto impress Klaus, or anything. She’sjust making herself presentable.

She grabs her keys and exits her apartment. She takes thefew steps to Klaus’ door at an abnormally fast pace, raps sharply before shecan chicken out.

She can hear him on the other side, knows he must bechecking the peephole and it’s a struggle not to fidget or let her face dosomething weird. The locks scrape and Klaus looks pleased when he appears. Abit shocked too, but Caroline can’t blame him considering the lengths she’sgone to lately to avoid seeing his face.

“Caroline,” he says slowly, glancing down the hall like heexpects hidden cameras. “To what do I…”

He’s being stiff, a little formal, a tell that he’s notentirely confident. It makes Caroline feel a little better about her ownnerves. She jiggles the container a bit. “I baked. Kind of excessively.”

“Bad day?” he asks knowingly.

It’s tempting to say yes. To sigh and let her rigid postureloosen and unload like she used to. Klaus had never minded listening to her,not even when she got off track and rambled about issues that were onlytangentially related. He used to sit at her kitchen island and listen to hervent, calmly making his way through a stack of cookies while she’d eliminatedall traces of flour from her countertops and scrubbed down her mixer.

He’d ask questions and scoff at stupid things her clientshad done. The few times he’d stopped by her office he’d been cool anddismissive of the coworkers she didn’t like and Caroline had kind of enjoyedit. Petty? Yes. But she liked the proof that he’d paid attention.

She wonders if it would be so bad to be honest. To try totalk to him.

He’s watching her, waiting patiently for an answer andCaroline notes a smudge of ink on his neck. That his hair’s mussed and he’swearing worn jeans and a t-shirt that’s grey now but was probably blue of blackonce upon a time.

She knows that shirt, remembers how soft it was against hercheek as she’d laid draped over Klaus on his couch. It’s got a hole on the leftside, directly over a spot that Klaus lies and claims isn’t ticklish. Herfinger had always found it, wormed inside to stroke his skin, and whatever TVshow they’d been watching would quickly be forgotten.

The memories are too vivid. The times she’d managed to pinhim and dig her fingers into his skin, until he’d shaken with silent laughter,his eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched to keep the sounds in. Sometimes he’dbeen faster, had flipped her over and gotten revenge, until she’d been gaspingfor breath and pleading for mercy, sides aching but so freaking happy.

They can’t be friends, not when she can’t forget what it waslike to be more.

“Kind of,” Caroline snaps, angrier than she’d meant to be.She shoves the cookies in his direction and Klaus barely has a hold on thembefore she’s backing away. The container wobbles and he steps forward, pullingit closer. “I just didn’t want them to go to waste. I’ve got dinner on thestove, so…”

Another lie. She was going to order a pizza but she’s goingto have to scrounge something edible from her cupboards now.

“Wait,” he calls, “Caroline…”

She ignores him, turning, yanking her keys out of herpocket. She’s laser focused, jams the key into the lock.

“Caroline, can’t we just…”

He’s closer and she shakes her head, getting the door openand stepping in, “Maybe another time. Have a good night!”

She’s got the door closed before she’s finished speaking.Caroline presses back against it, sorely tempted to give her head a coupleknocks against it.

What had she been thinking?

She can hear Klaus, faintly, in the hallway. Can’t quitemake out what he says.

It’s at least two minutes before she hears his door shut.

“Caroline, darling, is that a new dress? You look positivelyedible.”

Huh. That’s suspicious.

Caroline’s used to Kol’s lavish compliments, knows to be onguard when he whips them out because it usually means he’s done something she’sgoing to hate. Or needs a favor. She drops her purse on the table by his door,takes the very large glass of red wine he hands her. Takes a healthy sipbecause she might need it. “What do you want, Kol?”

Kol’s got his most contrite expression on though Carolinesees a tiny bit of something else in his eyes. Glee, maybe. Anticipation,definitely. “There’s been a bit of a mix up,” he explains.

Well, that’s barely helpful.

“And…” she prompts.

He sighs, drapes his arm over her shoulder. “Bekah didn’tknow that you had custody of the group tonight. Nik stopped by her place todrop off something he’d borrowed and she dragged him along to dinner.”

“So Klaus is…” Kol’s steered her to face the kitchen andthere’s the answer to her question. Klaus is in the living room, talking toMarcel, his back to her. “Here,” Caroline finishes. “Does he know…?”

“That you’re here? We told him you’d be along shortly. Hesaid he didn’t mind though he’d leave if you did. I assured him that I thought we could all be adults.” Helooks at her, disapproving, and Caroline cannot believe that she is being judged by Kol Mikaelson ofall people.

“Are you seriously attempting to use reverse psychology onme right now?”

Kol grins, “Depends. Is it working?”

She takes another sip of wine that might technically be moreof a gulp. Kol’s brows rise but he’s smart enough not to comment. “I don’t seewhy I have to be the bigger person,”Caroline complains. “He got weird. And he broke up with me.”

Kol’s kind enough not to comment on her sulkiness, draws hertighter to his side. It’s almost a hug, something she’d sure he’d deny. “Mybrother can be massively thick headed.”

Ugh, how is it that there’s still a tiny part of her brainthat’s offended at the insult?

“That’s one way of putting it,” Caroline mutters.

“I’m sure you’ll be ever so creative and verbose once we getmore liquor into you. Assuming you’re staying?” Caroline nods, drains her wine.She hands Kol the glass. “And Niklaus?” he asks.

Caroline takes a deep breath, her hands coming up to smoothdown her dress. Part of her wants to leave but that would be cowardly. Asmaller, more childish, part of her wants Klaus to leave. He’d do it, Kol hadsaid, probably with a minimum of fuss. There’d be no hiding the reason,however, and she’d hate for Enzo and Kol’s gathering to get awkward.

An evening like this had been inevitable. Two of her veryfavorite people are in love with Mikaelsons (though Katherine’s still super indenial) and it’s kind of a miracle Caroline’s managed to avoid Klaus sociallyfor this long.

She can do this. Hopefully.

She surveys the room. Only a few people have noted herarrival. Kat’s perched on the arm of a chair, and she raises a questioning browwhen Caroline meets her eyes. Klaus is watching her too but he’s wary. Shemanages a smile in his direction, faint and only passingly polite. “He canstay,” she says. “Just don’t expect me to sit next to him at dinner.”

“What kind of host do you think I am?” Kol asks, some of hisoffense genuine.

She smiles sunnily, ducking out from under his arm, “Thekind that’s quick with the refills, I hope.”

Kol heads to the kitchen and Caroline makes her way towardsKatherine. She might be a mature adult but that doesn’t mean she’s not gratefulfor an ally.

Fingers crossed Kol keeps up the heavy pours.

Caroline’s still in the habit of checking to see if thehallway is a Klaus free zone. She does it automatically now, even late on aSunday evening, a bag of trash clutched in her hand.

The coast had seemedclear.

She nearly has a heart attack when she spots Klaus on thefloor, halfway between her doorway and his. He’s sitting down, leaning againstthe wall. His eyes are closed and he’s listing to one side.

She freezes, but only for a second. Then she’s moving, garbagedropped, forgotten, as she lurches over to kneel next to him. She checks hishead first, her hands gentle. “Klaus? Klaus, wake up.” He doesn’t even twitch,slipping further to the left.

Caroline runs one hand over his body, checking for injuries,her other going to his neck. “Please,be okay. I need you to be okay,” she mutters. Feeling around, she finds asteady pulse. “Thank god.”

She’s shaking and she regrets not bothering with any firstaid refreshers after college. Her panic eases slightly when she realizesthere’s no blood, that he’s warm to the touch. She manages to take a shakybreath in. “Klaus, open your eyes.” No response. She shuffles closer, raisingher voice, shaking his shoulder gently. “Klaus, please. Wake up. Tell me whathappened. What do you need?” Caroline leans closer, tipping his head in herdirection and he groans.

Caroline gets a strong whiff of bourbon.

Oh, she’s going to killhim.

“You’re drunk?” she shrieks. “I practically have a heartattack because I think you were freaking deadand you’re…”

His face creases in pain and she presses her lips together,still fuming. His lashes flutter and when he manages to open his eyes they’rehazy, confused. “Sweetheart,” he slurs, “Why’re you…”

He blinks, looking passed her, “Hallway,” he manages, aftera long moment. “Where’s my…”

Klaus’ hands go to pat at his pockets. One of them had beenkeeping him upright-ish and Caroline grabs him before he can hit to floor, tugginguntil he’s propped against the wall. “Careful!” she scolds.

Klaus is either unconcerned or unaware that he’d just nearlyface planted. “Couldn’t find my keys. I think I left them in the car.”

She considers leaving him. He’s a grown up who’d chosen topickle his liver without bothering to ensure he’d get to bed safely. He’s sonot her problem.

She can’t make herself stand up and walk away.

Caroline squeezes her eyes shut, sucks in a breath through herteeth. She’s a little calmer when she opens her eyes again. Klaus is slumpedwhere she left him, sleepy eyed and watching her raptly. “Okay,” she saysbriskly. “Who dropped you off?” She’s got most of Klaus’ usual drinking buddiesin her phone.

“Blonde girl. Pretty, but not as pretty as you.”

The compliment doesn’t land as Klaus had intended. Sheshoves his shoulder, forgetting his lack of balance, has to yank at his shirtto keep him from going down. “You were on a date?” she hisses. She shouldprobably try to keep her lid on her outrage, doesn’t want Klaus to know how herstubborn stupid feelings linger, but maybe he’ll be too out of it to remember.

A girl can dream.

“Pro tip, maybe don’t get falling down drunk on a date.You’re probably not going to get a second.”

He laughs, louder than he usually does, his head tippingback against the wall. She hates herself for it but she studies him moreclosely, looking for a lipstick smudge or a mouth shaped bruise, checking tosee if the buttons of his shirt line up.

When he quiets he reaches for her, his hand circling herwrist. “Don’t want a second. Or even a first. Don’t want her.”

That doesn’t make awhole lot of sense but he’s clearly had an awful lot of bourbon. Carolineignores the jealousy that’s still making her a little sick, does her best to bebusiness like. Once she’s solved this Klaus situation she’ll retreat to thebath tub with her emergency Haagen Daaz. She tries to tug her arm away butKlaus’ is unwilling to be shaken off. “Can you text your new pretty blonde friendand get her to swing back with your keys? Or does Rebekah or Kol have a spareset?” Elijah’s out of town, Caroline knows, won’t be back until Tuesday. They’dchatted about his business trip at Kol and Enzo’s.

“Phone’s dead.”

“Of course it is,” Caroline grumbles. Klaus had availedhimself of the backup charger she carries in her purse way more than she everhad. “I’ll text Kol.”

She pulls back enough to snap a pic of Klaus, sends it off.

Caroline [11:23 PM]:Found: 1 drunk brother.

Caroline [11:23 PM]:Please bring keys and take him off my hands.

Kol [11:24 PM]: Heleft them in the Uber. I found them.

Caroline [11:24 PM]:Awesome.

Caroline [11:24 PM]:Did you have a fun double date?

Caroline [11:24 PM]:I heard Klaus’ new lady friend is pretty.

She regrets the text as soon as she sends it. It’s not herbusiness and Kol will read way toomuch into the statement. Not that it’ll be hard when, even via text, it drips with how pissed she is. Klaus’thumb traces circles on her skin. It’s distracting so she’ll blame him for herimpulsiveness.

Kol [11:25 PM]:What? It was strictly boys only, darling. Marcel got a new job.

She’s not owed an explanation. That doesn’t mean she canresist fishing for one.

Caroline [11:26 PM]:He’s not my boyfriend anymore. You don’t have to cover for him. It’s not likehe’s cheating.

Kol [11:26 PM]:Like I’d have covered for him if he’d have been dumb enough to cheat on you.

Kol [11:27 PM]:The only women he talked to tonight were the waitress and the Uber driver.

Kol [11:27 PM]: Ioffered my world class wingman skills and a red head in a scandalous top madesex eyes but Nik was more interested in his glass.

Kol [11:27 PM]:His many glasses, I should say.

She’s probably a terrible person but she’s pleased. She’llnever admit as much, however.

Caroline [11:28 PM]:I’m confused.

Kol [11:28 PM]:Me too. I’m going to text our Uber driver your number. I gave her $40 to dropNik’s keys off. Will you grab them from her?

Caroline [11:29 PM]:I should make him sleep it off in the hallway.

Kol [11:29 PM]:Probably. But you won’t.

He’s totally right and it’s super annoying.

Caroline [11:29 PM]:Fine.

Caroline [11:30 PM]:I will get him safely inside his apartment but that’s it. I’m not tucking himin, I’m not making sure he’s hydrated. I might steal all the painkillers fromhis medicine cabinet.

Kol [11:31 PM]:Hell hath no fury.

Caroline [11:31 PM]:Shut up.

She’s not scorned, damn it. Klaus hadn’t technically wrongedher in any way. As much as she’d like to she can’t blame him for the lingeringsoft spot she has for him. That’s all on her.

Caroline makes sure her ringer is on, turns the sound wayup, and shoves her phone into her pocket. She debates getting Klaus to stand,hauling him into her place. She suspects he’d make himself at home on her couchand that getting him into his place would be more of a struggle. Instead, shesits next to him, resigns herself to waiting. She turns her head so she canlook at him, “Do you have to puke or anything?”

He makes a noise of denial, his palm slipping over hers. Hemoves closer, his head tipping down to watch as his fingers tangle with hers.She probably shouldn’t be allowing the touching, definitely shouldn’t beenjoying it, but if it keeps Klaus in this quiet and cooperative stage ofdrunkenness she’ll let it happen.

He’d never been particularly fond of PDA. Except when he wasdrunk.

In private he’d always been touching her, would pull herclose and tangle his hands in her hair when they watched TV. She’d usuallywoken up in the middle of the bed, Klaus pressed against her. He’d liked itwhen she wore his clothes, used his shampoo and soap. Liked leaving marks onher skin even more, scraped her with his stubble until her skin was red andsensitive, left little bites that would become bruises, hints of pain as aprecursor to pleasure.

She tries to pull away again, feels the back of her neck gettinghot. Klaus’ grip remains firm.

He flips her palm over, presses the back of her hand to histhigh. Traces the lines he finds delicately.

She sinks her teeth into the inside of her lip when shewants to shiver.

“Did you at least have fun?” she asks.

The shake of his head is slow. “Not particularly. Tried tobeg off but Marcel says I’ve been too much of a hermit recently.”

“Didn’t think you were susceptible to a guilt trip.”

“There might have been some threats too.”

She considers pressing. Drunk as he is, he might be pliantand Caroline’s always liked to new information. But Klaus’ secrets shouldn’t beof any concern to her. She’s struggling to let go of him, knowing more mightmake that harder. She keeps her reply disinterested, “That sounds about right.”

“Did you have fun the other night? At Kol’s? You seemed to.”

She’s still half-turned to face him, watches his expressiongrow darker. She’d kept a room between them at all times, had waited untiltheir various mutual friends had wandered into her orbit before talking tothem. Had excused herself to use the restroom whenever it looked like Klausmight get close, or a topic that might draw him in was brought up. She’d beenextra bubbly to try to cover any weirdness, had made jokes and laughed loudlyand steered all conversations away from her and how she’d been doing.

Honestly? It had been exhausting.

“I always enjoy myself at Kol’s,” she says. “He makes thedip I like.”

“You barely ate.”

She bristles and the idle patterns he’d been drawing on herpalm halt. Would it kill him to just make polite small talk here? She’s trying. “Well, that’s a littlestalker-y.”

Klaus doesn’t seem to take offense. “Guilty, love. I’dresolved myself to asking you to talk to me in private but you thwarted myefforts.”

She manages to yank her hand away, puts a few extra inchesbetween them. “We don’t need to talk privately.”

“I made a mistake.

Would he be saying this sober? Caroline’s not sure. “Klaus,stop.”

He doesn’t listen. “I thought… well, I was wrong aboutsomething. And then I realized what an idiot I was for…”

“Stop,” she repeats, more forcefully. “You’re drunk. Thisisn’t the time.”

“Would you talk to me if I was sober?”

She keeps her eyes on her lap. His tone is distinctlywheedling and she doesn’t trust herself not to cave if she looks over.

“You seemed awfully reluctant the other night.”

Her phone rings and she heaves herself to her feet, sends asilent thank you to the Uber driver with flawless timing. She pats Klaus’shoulder, makes sure he’ll stay upright. “You’ll just have to ask nicely andfind out.

Caroline takes the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator,to give Klaus the time to formulate a reply.

The last twenty minutes have been an emotional whirlwind.Klaus can give her a little time to recover before he throws her into another.

Caroline doesn’t sleep. At all. She’s not happy about it.

When 6 AM rolls around she knows she should make a pot ofcoffee and hop in the shower, resign herself to going heavy on the under eyeconcealer. Instead, she grabs her phone, emails her boss, and takes a sick day.Something she never does so it won’tbe questioned.

She throws a robe on – her least cute one – and marches overto Klaus’ place. She knocks. And knocks, and knocks. Until her knucklesprotest.

He looks awful when he throws the door open (and a tiny bitmurderous but that evaporates when he sees her) his shirt wrinkled and skinpale. His hair is flat on the left, where an odd pattern from whatever surfacehe’d been sleeping on is pressed into his cheek, and a snarl of curls on theright. Caroline crosses her arms, “Invite me in.”

He wants to talk? They’re going to get this over with.Otherwise she’s going to dwell and Klaus has been occupying far too much of hermental energy lately. She figures there are two possible outcomes. First, theyresolve whatever’s lingering between them, for real this time, and he fadesinto the background of her life, a friend of a friend who happens to live downthe hall. In the other option, the one she’s kind of rooting for, he continuesto take up a ton of space in her brain and buys her dinner and provides regularorgasms for her trouble. Along with good conversations, cute drawings, andregular arguments about the merits of reality television.

Klaus steps back, pulling the door open wider, and Carolinebrushes passed him. She heads to his kitchen, goes directly for the cupboardwhere he keeps the coffee. “If we don’t do this now I’m going to be thinkingabout it all day. I won’t get anything on my goals list accomplished and I’llbe cranky. So I thought we could just… I don’t know, rip off the band aid.”

Klaus still hasn’t said anything but when she twists herhead to check his reaction he’s smiling. “Let me grab a couple painkillers andwe’ll have coffee.”

Caroline winces, reaching into her pocket. She sets theTylenol bottle on the island between them. “I was kind of pissed last night. Istole these.”

He laughs, opens his fridge. Pulls out a bottle of applejuice. Drinks directly from it like some kind of heathen. Caroline wrinkles hernose, “Gross. What if someone else wants some and doesn’t want your cooties?”

“I haven’t had anyone over in ages.”

It’s not surprising information, Caroline had gleaned asmuch from his comments last night. Still, she finds the confirmation that Klaushasn’t been having company welcome.

She turns her attention back to brewing the coffee. Onceeverything is set she flicks the button, takes a deep breath, turns to faceKlaus fully. “I don’t understand what happened.”

He sighs, all traces of amusement fleeing. “I know.”

“I thought things were good. We’d exchanged keys. We’d talkedabout me moving in when my lease was up. You didn’t seem freaked out about that.”

“I wasn’t. Honestly.” Klaus runs a hand through the flatside of his hair, making it slightly more symmetrical. “I heard that you turneddown a promotion.”

She stares at him and it takes her a second to realize whathe’s talking about. “What, the Seattle thing? I never even considered takingit. It was barely a move up. Andmoving across the country? I can barely get my mom to come here.”

He looks down, leans against the counter behind him. Klausisn’t one for embarrassment but she thinks his ears might be turning pink. “Ididn’t realize that at the time. Katerina kindly explained it to me a few weeksago.”

Yeah, Caroline would bet Kat hadn’t been especially kind.

“How did you even know about it?”

“I had to send my laptop away, remember? Borrowed yours afew times. You left a few of the emails open.”

Caroline groans, crossing her arms. “You broke up with mebecause you snooped?” She’d used theoffer to leverage a bit of a pay raise. Her boss had been only too willing tokeep Caroline around. She hadn’t told Klaus, had wanted it to be settledbecause she’d been pricing out winter getaways in St. Lucia.

“I feel as if snoopedimplies a bit of effort,” Klaus mutters. “An ulterior motive.” He’s lucky there’snothing she can throw at him.

“So not the point,” she snaps.

Caroline whirls, intending to get a bit of distance, but hegrabs her arm, steps in front of her. “Wait a minute, don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving,geez. I wouldn’t have invaded your place this early if I wasn’t committed togetting all the gory details.”

He’s not entirely convinced, ducking down to catch her eyes,his pleading. “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

She snorts, claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, but that’sawfully conceited of you. Also, reallyarrogant. Kind of on brand, I guess.”

She’s only half teasing.

Annoyance flickers across Klaus’ features. “Funny. I thoughtI was being selfless.”

She swallows back the reply that wants to shoot out – she’sfairly certain he’d been scared butit she uses that against him flippantly he’ll be the one storming out and they’llnever get anywhere. “Klaus. I’m notselfless. Had I really wanted Seattle I would have asked you to come with me.”

That shocks him. His eyes widen, mouth falling open and hestruggles for words.

Her hearts started pounding, nerves tightening her stomachbut Caroline continues, flipping her hair over her shoulder and striving fornonchalance. “You work from home like 95% of the time anyway. You’d just haveto fly back once a month. And we’d need to get an extra bedroom or two becauseI’m pretty sure at least one of your siblings would be visiting every weekendbecause you’re co-dependant weirdos. But, since they all have excellent tastein significant others, I was prepared to deal.”

Klaus seems to be having trouble processing. “Why… why wouldyou…”

She knots her hands together because they’re shaking. Hervoice isn’t steady either, “Because I loved you, duh. And I was pretty surethat you loved me too.” He’d never said it but then, neither had she. Klaus isgood at actions – showing up with dinner when she’d texted that her day hadbeen busy, not complaining when she got his shirt all wet during the sad moviesthat he hated, keeping the scented candles she liked in his apartment. There’dbeen dozens upon dozens of tiny little things that showed he paid attention,that he wanted her to be comfortable and happy.

She’d found she hadn’t really needed the words.

He reaches for her, his hands settling on her hips. Carolinelets herself be pulled, fits her body to his. It’s just as right as sheremembers. When his head dips she dodges, resting her head against his shoulder.She tightens her arms around him, just in case he gets any silly, wrong, ideasabout pulling away. “I’m gonna need a little grovelling before I consent tomake up sex.”

She feels him laugh, hears the low husk of it against her ear.“How about I make you breakfast?”

Caroline thinks that’s a great start.

[readerimagines]

can u write more bandit/reader.... that other one was so good and you wrote him perfectly u_u

It was just a long and absolutely boring turn for the man that had to drive around checking that the zone of Berlin that he had to take care of was calm. They chose him to do that job, with his experience in special public order he was such a precious operator in their squad. The point is that yes, it was too calm. With that temperature it was hard even to breath and only tourists were around at that time. For a place like Berlin, that has barely seen 30 degrees in summer, that sudden wave of terrible heat was so unexpected and destructive for the mood of the local people, used to cold air and not always too bright weathers. He adjusted his gear and hopped down the car to stop near the square and enjoy his break. Luckily a recent directive from “above” allowed them to wear something more casual, a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, both black to give it a somehow professional look, even though it was quite evident that it was a momentary set of clothing for circumstances like that, where anyone could even pass out from the high temperatures. He almost drank all the water in the little bottle, so he bought another one and, exiting the store, he noticed an apparently worried figure on a bench at the bus stop.

“ Sprichst du Deutsch?“He asked the girl, scaring her for the sudden speech that woke her up from her research for something in her bag, while she kept a luggage under her legs with a strange agitation. She raised her head to look at him and tilted it, confused. “Oh, Sir, did I do anything wrong? “The young woman asked panicking internally. “Have you lost something? “He then asked, receiving the answer to his previous question with her English reply. “Ah… Is it so obvious? “ She asked with a trembling voice, caused by her terrible embarrassment. “Actually yes, I must have dropped my purse somewhere and… Well, I can’t find that bloody thing! I’ve bumped onto someone while exiting the metro and now I’m without my ID, money and tickets and the damn keys to get back at the apartment I should live in… “The man massaged his temples with a hand and sighed with a slightly amused smile. “Isn’t it an universal not-said rule that you should hold your bag close to your body when you ride public vehicles? “ He asked jokingly, at least he found something to do in a boring, scorching day like that. “Well, yes, but… yes, I’m kind of distracted, but it’s okay, I can… Um… I can ask a friend to stay at their place, really! “ Y/n said, trying to appear like she had everything under control. “Well, you may give me the address so I can drive you there, then. Without a ticket you can’t ride anything and as you said, you don’t have any money either, with you. Am I right? “Was he trying to make her bury herself in embarrassment? Was it so obvious the fact that she just kicked herself out her own apartment and had no way to get in it, since it was her first day in Berlin and didn’t remember the address? Because yes, she wrote it down in a piece of paper inside that magic purse and thought that cleaning the phone memory was a good thing before going in a place she had never been in, deleting all the informations she needed to get at least at home.And yes, it was quite a weird day. “I… I don’t remember it, let me call her a second! “She said laughing nervously while calling her friend that, not knowing that she went there in Berlin a day before, turned off the phone because of some things she had to do. Y/n just grunted in frustration and turned back to the officer that was watching the scene laughing silently. “Let’s go check in the Metro’s offices, okay? Maybe someone returned it. “He offered and this time the other didn’t have any choices at her side.

It was weird, she was in a car with an officer that, let’s be honest, was quite a sight, that was just driving comfortably speaking trough the radio to a coworker that, as she could pick up through the German not-too-familiar language, was called… Jäger? Was it a real name? And… Bandit? What did she get herself into? As he closed the conversation with his fellow worker, he leaned his attenction back to her.“So, my coworker said that there at the Metro someone in fact brought a purse, but another agent has it and you will probably not see it until tomorrow, since she got a red code outside the city and didn’t get back at the station to go directly to take care of that. We need to see what to do with you since you could even be some kind of undercover terrorist or whatever. Let’s check if a everything is okay, ja? “He asked, even if it sounded more like a warning, while he parked the car and pulled out the digital database every officer kept during their roams around the city, starting to ask for her informations again, to check that at least in photo she could resemble the person described on the screen. “Well, it appears that even your fingerprints correspond to the ones here, so… I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow. “She nodded and sighed tiredly, looking away. “Where will I stay tonight, though? It’s not like I have any money or anything, so… Do you know a place where I can pass the night? “Her concern filled her words as she rubbed one of her eyes. “Try to sleep a bit now. I can do another trip around my zone before we get back at the station. I’ll see if anyone has an extra room at home. I’d let you sleep in a cell too, but that doesn’t look too nice and you look already scary enough with those dark circles and sweat all around the place. “ He was joking, but it hurt a bit, inside her mind. Not for the joke itself, but because she felt horrifying too, after hours of trip, stressed for the whole day and tormented by the high temperatures. It’s like the universe took her “what else could be wrong” as a challenge, when she started the day by getting on the train in public with her trousers inside out without even realizing. She just nodded and yawned covering her mouth, before falling rapidly asleep, with the police man turning the air conditioning in the car on, low, to keep them both cool and not evaporate with the sweat. ___

She somehow felt it would have ended like that, all the cards were on the table for her to see that she had no options: She should have slept at that agent’s place. It was so awkward, but at least she had her luggage and didn’t have to stink for any longer, but one problem was towering between her and her beloved shower. “I’m sleeping on the sofa, stop it. You need to rest properly. “The man insisted taking some covers for the night, just to make the sofa a little less hard. “I insist, please! I’ve alredy taken all your time and made your work hard, at least sleep decently! What if you don’t sleep well enough and you fall asleep at work? “ She said looking at him, the humiliation of stealing his bed after all he has done for her was too much for her to take. He turnes to face her, raising a brow while he ruffed his blond hair to let it breathe, after a day with the helmet on. “Who said I have to work tomorrow? And I’m not so soft that I can’t afford a day of work just because I didn’t sleep. Anyway, I’m Dominic, if you don’t stop whining about my bed it won’t be a pleasure to meet me and I’ll just let you sleep in a cell. “She sighed, puffing her cheeks for a second. “Well, thank you then! “ She finally gave up, looking around, trying to feel more comfortable in that situation. “Good, go take a shower or I’ll have to burn the blankets tomorrow. “He placed a hand on her shoulder and showed her the bathroom door, placing a towel in her arms.

Half an hour after, the woman was outside the bathroom with some clean clothes and a more acceptable aspect, at least she looked more relaxed than before, that had the face of a person on the verge of a breakdown. A delicious smell was the first thing that reached her nose when she walked into the hall, towards the small kitchen. “Woah, what are you cooking? ““I hope you’re not vegetarian. Meatballs and some salad. Nothing special, but I don’t feel like eating too much. “ The man explained turning off the stove and mixing the bowl’s content. “If you’re still hungry there is some garlic bread in the cupboard. Just take it and eat. “Y/n watched him curiously. Why was him so nice? Maybe it was because of some sort of sense of duty, but that Jäger, Marius as she learnt he was called at the station, offered to help too and Dominic just took her at his own place instead. That made her laugh a bit internally, but didn’t say anything. “Okay, thank you again, really.” She replied with a smile, stealing a meatball with his permission. ___

“So… How long did you say you will stay here in Berlin? “ The blond asked rubbing his face with his hands, trying to wake up a bit. “Actually… I’m here to find a job and if I see I can live here I’d like to… just stay here. “ They were awake from probably ten minutes and Dominic looked absolutely, stunningly terrifying. Not that he wasn’t handsome or anything, is just that he was the opposite of a morning person, with that grumpy face and groans he let out when he popped his bones stretching. She offered to make coffee and this time he was the one letting it go and accepting it.

-‘I’ve left you my bed after all. You owe me one. ‘ That’s what he said with his low pitched voice in a murmur, between yawns. -

“I see… Take this. And try not to lose it, thank you. “He took her phone and unlocked it by placing her finger on the button as she usually did, gaining a gasp from her.

“Wha-““Shut it a second, do you always complain like this? “ He scoffed the girl that just blushed and rolled her eyes. To be a police man he really was annoying! But, she had to admit that it was… fun. The athmosfere between them was so friendly and relaxed that she could almost get used to it… Not even the time to realize what actually happened that he placed her phone back in her hands.

“There you go. If you need anything, just call. If I have the time and the will, I’ll try to help. Don’t call Jäger, he’s an ass. “

She laughed and he stared at her for a second, smiling slightly. “Before going to take your purse back, do you want to have lunch together? I’m paying. Plus, without your money I can’t see how you can do it yourself, so, Ja, I’m doing it. Objections? “She smiled and poured them a nice cup of milk and coffee, shaking her head. “No, Sir. ““Good, or-““You’ll let me sleep in the cell, yeah, yeah.” She interrupted him, mocking that little joke he tormented her with, the day before, causing him to snort slightly.

(I know it’s not exactly a BanditxReader, but… YET! I got this idea and thought it could be cute, above all because it’s an evident start of something. May write a sequel one day, just to make it more clear, but yeah, I wanted to create this kind of affectionate but fun atmosphere with them teasing each other and stealing glances or smiles just because they have a sympathy for each other that they don’t have with others that later on can develop in something more! I hope you like it and feel free to ask again for something more specific if you want! )